


正

by leen_go (cagedchaos)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, I'm so sorry for this, M/M, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 83,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagedchaos/pseuds/leen_go
Summary: Kris is a duke, Lay is a courtesan who has a jaded view on life and has trust issues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "do you think maybe you can write a really cute fanxing domestic fic on this blog post? www(.)viralnova(.)com/marriage-is-not-for-you/ it's about the husband realizing that marriage is not for him but for his wife. it's really nice ;AA;"

  
“My Lord! Come have a drink with me!”  
  
“My Lord! Come dance with me!”  
  
“My Lord! Tell me about your work!”  
  
Wu Yifan smiled at the girls sitting on either side of him, taking the drink offered to him and knocking it back in a single shot. A leg brushed up against his own and he ran his hand slowly along the length, turning his head to place a kiss lightly on the girl’s neck. He felt a tug on the side of his head and looked around to find the one on his other side pouting up at him jealously, wrapping a stray strand of his pin straight waist length hair that had come undone from the binding atop his head around her finger. “What about me?” she whined and Yifan chuckled lightly before leaning forwards to press his lips against hers.  
  
“Hey, Seok?” Yifan called into the dimly lit establishment  
  
“Yes?” Yifan’s manservant replied dutifully from his position against the wall behind the couch Yifan shared with four of the best women The Star had to offer.  
  
“Remember where this place is. I like it,” He smiled softly, reaching behind heads to run his fingers through the hair of the quietest girl sitting furthest from him, earning himself a quiet giggle from her. “The girls here are pretty,” he explained.  
  
  
Kim Minseok smiled subtly as he kept his perfect posture, hands behind his back as he bowed slightly, “Of course, My Lord,” he mumbled. Suddenly, several of the candles around the place were blown out simultaneously, leaving only a line of lanterns lit along the length of the stage at the front. Yifan followed suite as the other patrons around him finished their conversations abruptly, silence falling in the room.  
  
An over made-up woman in her forties that had introduced herself to Yifan as the owner of the business stepped to the front and Yifan’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as she began to speak. “Seok?” He called behind him in a hushed voice. “What exactly is happening here?”  
  
Minseok leaned forwards to whisper in the royal’s ear, “I’m not entirely sure, My Lord. Shall I go ask?”  
  
“It’s Lay’s dance!” one of the girls offered helpfully, envy and excitement evident in her voice.  
  
“Lay?” Yifan asked.  
  
“Yeah,” chimed another, “She only puts on six shows every month, on the first, the sixth, the 13th, the seventeenth, the twenty second and the twenty fifth. She’s Lady Pearl’s favourite,” she finished, bitter jealousy hinting at the edge of her voice.  
  
The Duke raised an eyebrow in interest as he cracked a grin, “Well, this should be interesting then, shouldn’t it?” he asked out loud to no one in particular as a slender figure made its way to the illuminated spot on the stage. Silky ebony hair flowed over her shoulder. A gold ornament/hairpin depicting birds was placed neatly on the left of her head above the ear, casting glints of orange gold around the stage. Her sun-coloured dress just long enough to touch the floor as she glided along it.  
  
A wave of cheers erupted as the main attraction of the night made her way to center stage, a vibrant smile gracing her pink lips as she took a bow, making sure to make eye contact with every patron in the room that night. A shiver of excitement went down Yifan’s spine as Lay’s brown eyes met his own and Yifan found himself sitting straighter. The girls sharing Yifan’s couch fell from either side of him in surprise before joining him at the edge of the seat and clinging onto his arms once more. Yifan hardly paid them any attention, his focus was entirely on Lay on stage. She pulled out an elegant fan and struck a pose, a clear sign that silences the crowd.  
  
The candles flickered slightly in their lanterns as another girl started to play melodic tunes on her _guzheng_ at one end of the stage, a mere accompaniment to the gracefulness of Lay’s mesmerizing dance, her dress flowing behind her like a songbird’s feathered wings.  
  
  
“Beautiful,” Yifan heard himself sigh mutter breathlessly and realizing that he was staring with his jaw hanging. He cleared his throat to regain his composure. He , untangled an arm from the girls beside him and signaled his manservant forward. “I’d like to meet this Lay,” he announced simply before Minseok bowed politely and took his leave to cater to his master’s bidding.  
  
Wu Yifan had no idea how long it was before Minseok returned, trailing behind Lady Pearl, who Yifan was sure was wearing too much make-up for her age. “I’m to have a private audience with your Lay?” Yifan asked, eyes never leaving the stage where the subject of conversation curtsied prettily before slipping behind the curtain once more.  
  
“Of course. Anything you ask, Duke Wu.” The owner of the establishment smiled as she waved her floral handkerchief dramatically, “Give me a moment while I tell Lay the good news!” She gave each of the girls at Yifan’s side a quick sharp look before smiling at him as she turned to leave.  
  
A silence fell for a moment. One of the girls picked up the rice wine bottle on the low table in front of them and another picked up his empty glass. “Another drink?” they chirped again and Yifan obliged willingly.  
  
…  
  
Zhang Yixing collapsed in his chair and stared at the heavily drawn version of himself in the mirror with disdain as he added another stroke using a stick of kohl to the tally on the sheet wedged in between the reflective surface and its frame. He brought a comb to his hair as he contemplated if he should count up the messy 正‎’s he’d drawn all over the sheet, wondering when the last time was that he’d actually done a proper count of the number of performances he’d put on as ‘Lay’.  
  
A knock sounded at his door and he spun his head around quickly to greet Lady Pearl. “I have good news, Yixing! Someone’s asked for a private audience with you,” she announced with a wide smile, the nauseating scent of smoke already starting to permeate into Yixing’s dressing room. “You’ve got five minutes,” she continued curtly without waiting for Yixing to reply as she started to pull the door closed once more. “He’s a duke,” she finished with a slight suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows before she disappeared once more.  
  
A heavy sigh tumbled from Yixing’s lips as the click of the door echoed in the room. He replaced the comb on the counter in front of him as a derisive snort ruined his perfectly made up features momentarily, “Duke?” he muttered, staring at the dead eyes in his reflection.  
  
How many times had he poured his hopes of a better life into a wealthy businessman, a sweet talking army captain, an owner of a popular bakery, a lecherous doctor? He still remembered when he’d been excited to be selected to be the First Lady of The Star. The previous person, who had the title, had left the House to marry a man who had bought her freedom. It had been his hope from the moment he’d been pulled off the streets and painted with white powder and red lipstick, to become someone desirable enough to have someone pay for his freedom. He’d sworn from the moment Lady Pearl had announced the “promotion” that it would be less than two hundred dances before he would leave this place, but patrons came and went. They wanted him. They lied to him. They used him.  
  
They wasted him.  
  
Yixing closed his eyes and took a deep breath, giving himself a moment before he stared back at himself again, this time with bright eyes and a sincere smile as he reached up with one hand to fix the flower hair stick hairpin and grabbed his comb once more with the other, trying hard not to think about how many 正’s were on his tally sheet already.  
  
…  
  
“Leave us,” Yifan commanded, as he stood in the middle of the room, Lady Pearl and Minseok close behind him. His eyes never left Lay’s twinkling ones save for the second when the door closed with a click. The room filled with silence as Yifan continued to appreciate the figure standing in front of him before it was broken with a simple ‘Hello’ from Lay. “I’m Duke Wu Yifan,” he introduced himself with only the slightest of acknowledging nods. “Your performance tonight was quite spectacular,” he continued to compliment, stepping aside and pulling out a tucked away chair and gesturing for the dancer to take a seat.  
  
“You should know something before we continue,” Lay said evenly instead of taking Yifan’s offer to sit down.  
  
The Duke raised an eyebrow as he took the seat instead, leaning back to look up at her, “And that is?” he asked with amusement, mind already distracted with ways he would make those beautiful lips call his name out lustfully later tonight.  
  
“I’m male,” Lay said out loud, voice flat, “Most of my patrons don’t seem to care but I feel obligated to announce it now so it’s not a surprise to you later.”  
  
Yifan’s raised eyebrow stayed in its place as he processed the information for a long beat, his mouth agape as he tried to decide if he would join the others that Lay had mentioned that cared little whether the pale beauty was male or female.  
  
“I will explain to Lady Pearl myself if you choose to leave now,” Lay continued, tucking a stray hair behind her – his ear.  
  
 Yifan took a moment to think, deciding finally that even if Lay wasn’t a woman, there were certainly other ways to have his needs satisfied. He gave a smile as he got to his feet again, walking forwards a couple steps until he was close enough to bend down to kiss the latter’s neck. There was a soft sigh before the Duke felt a hand loosening the silk belt at his waist.  
  
…  
  
Yixing gave a last pull as he helped tighten the Duke’s vibrantly coloured royal attire around its owner’s waist/body. The latter reached up in an attempt to tidy the mess, bending his knees to see himself properly in Yixing’s mirror. Wu Yifan – Yixing was pretty sure that was the name the Duke had introduced himself with – sighed with defeat as he dropped his arms to his side, his hair still far from the perfectly coifed sign of privilege he’d first walked into Yixing’s room with. “I’m hopeless without Minseok,” he muttered as he pulled up straight again, turning around to face Yixing.  
  
“You look fine, Your Grace,” Yixing said quietly with a generous smile, making a point of grazing the other’s neck momentarily as he fixed the collar.  
  
“Well, thank you for last night then,” Wu Yifan said as he headed towards the exit and Yixing followed behind, drawing his own robe tightly around him as he went.  
  
“Pleasure’s all mine, Your Grace,” Yixing smiled again, “You have a good night, then,” he greeted with a small wave before he drew his doors closed once more. He waited until the footsteps fell away from the other side of the door before he stepped out into the hallway as well, hurrying to the end of the passage where he knocked at a dingy door. “Lu Han! Get my bath ready!” he nearly yelled as he waited for The Star’s errand boy to answer, hardly caring that his tone of voice was hardly the most respectful. “And make it piping hot!” he finished with another round of fist pounding against the door, before turning to leave, making long strides towards the back of the building. He stepped off the deck and rounded to the right side of the building where few people frequented and bent over, a dry heave coming up as he tried to dispel the bitter taste of the Duke from his mouth, one hand on the wall for support as he retched. As he started to feel lightheaded, Yixing finally pushed away from the wall and scrubbed the back of his hand across his lips, taking several deep breaths before he finally calmed down, enough to walk back to his dressing room.  
  
Yixing settled gently into his hard bed, bottom still slightly sore from his time with the duke, and let out a long sigh as he reached into the long curtains around the bed, pulling out another folded sheet and drawing a horizontal line for the duke on the page. He swallowed hard as he folded the yellowing page once more, trying not to focus on the fact that that tonight marked the sixteenth 正‎ he’d completed so far on his tally as he tucked the page behind layers of cloth. He took a moment to calm himself, reaching up to his head to make sure that his hair was still orderly. His finger paused over a sharp edge of the golden flower in his hair, and a momentary glance around the door to his dressing room reminded him he didn’t have enough powder to cover up yet another blemish on his wrist before his next trip into town. The vivid memory of a previous painful lashing from Lady Pearl dispelled any last temptation to feel alive again.  
  
A soft knock sounded at the door followed closely by a quiet voice that woke Yixing from his daze, “Your bath is ready now,” Lu Han announced, carrying a lantern that flickered light across his small face.  
  
Yixing let out an inaudible sigh as he got to his feet, “Sorry about yelling at you through the door earlier,” he muttered as he neared the young boy. “I wasn’t in the best of moods,” he explained as he closed the door behind them and took the lantern from Lu Han.  
  
“It’s okay,” the boy acknowledged with a shrug as he followed Yixing closely by his side.  
  
The pair walked in silence towards the bathhouse where the younger helped the older remove his robe, tucking it aside on a bench. Yixing sighed with released exhaustion as he lowered himself into the wooden basin, relishing the burn of the hot water as it washed all over his body, his hair floating around his neck in between pale purple flower petals.  
  
“Is everything to your liking?” Lu Han asked from a corner. Yixing nodded once before he submerged his head underwater.  
  
“Shall I wait for you outside then?” Lu Han asked when Yixing resurfaced.  
  
“Actually,” Yixing started, using the cloth Lu Han had provided to wipe himself clean, ignoring the fading lines of varying pink along his arm that appeared as the hot water dissolved away the cosmetic powder he’d applied prior to his show. “Can you brush my hair?” he asked Lu Han quietly.  
  
“Of course,” Lu Han obliged as he picked up a stool to sit beside the tub.  
  
Yixing hummed an almost inaudible ‘thanks’, closing his eyes and sank comfortably into the water.  
  
Soon, Lu Han. I’ll find us a proper home soon.  
  
…  
  
“You’re late.”  
  
Yifan yawned widely as he stretched his arms above his head, loose sleeves slipping to his elbows as he wandered towards the round breakfast table, a male servant pulling out a chair for him next to his mother.  
  
“Why are you always late,” his mother continued, though hardly expecting an answer.  
  
Another servant placed a fresh steaming bowl of rice in front of the Duke.  
  
Yifan ignored the annoyed tone in her voice, picking up his chopsticks as he eyed the morning’s dishes eagerly. He was barely halfway through a bite of his rice when his mother sighed heavily and placed her bowl on the jade surface of the table.  
  
“And why do you always look so disheveled?”  
  
Yifan rolled his eyes as he reached for a piece of fish, mouth still full from the previous bite, “Relax, mother. All this nagging isn’t good for your wrinkles,” he joked, earning himself a whack upside the head. “Ow!  Besides, it’s not like we have company or anything.”  
  
Another heavy sigh from his mother, “Did you forget that we are being summoned to dinner at the palace with the Emperor’s youngest sister? I think it’s safe to assume that you have to look presentable for a princess.”  
  
Yifan turned and scowled at his mother, mouth hanging open with the half chewed piece of fish still sitting on his tongue. “Are you trying to set me up with her? She’s a little old for me, don’t you think?”  
  
His mother frowned at him as she used a finger to lift Yifan’s chin and close his mouth, “No, it’s the full moon tomorrow night. We always have dinner with her on the Fifteenth of each month.”  
  
Yifan chewed a couple times and swallowed indignantly. “Good,” he muttered, “Because I’m pretty sure we’re related to her in some way.”  
  
He earned another smack across the back of his head, “You keep that idiotic mouth of yours shut tonight; the princess is married to her second cousin.”  
  
“Yes, mother,” he said dutifully before turning around to make a gagging face at Minseok who had to hide his smirk from the lady at the table.  
  
His mother let out another long sigh as she picked up her chopsticks once more and retrieved a roll of cooked egg and placed it neatly in Yifan’s bowl when the latter had finished shovelling rice into his mouth for the moment. “Eat up, you brat,” she said, attention turning back to her own bowl. “We leave when the sun is at its peak in the sky.  
  
Yifan stared at the piece of egg for a brief moment before breaking into a wide grin and shoving it into his waiting mouth, chewing quickly. He’d hardly swallowed the piece before he leaned over to kiss his mother on the cheek quickly, “You know I love you right, Mother?” he said, pulling back with a grin as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  
  
She tried to scowl at her son but only managed an unimpressed smile as she shook her head, “Every bit of a sweet talker that your father was, huh?”  
  
Yifan only grinned wider as he shovelled the rest of his food into his mouth, burping loudly (to his mother’s disapproving grimace) before pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “Come, Seok,” he announced as he headed out the doorway once more, “We’re to look presentable for the princess,” he enunciated, smiling at his mother sweetly before skipping out to the passageway that led to his bedroom, his manservant at his heels after bowing deeply to the Duke’s mother on his departure.


	2. Chapter 2

Yifan sighed heavily as he placed his brush on the ink tray and pressed the pads of his fingers against his closed eyes in a failed attempt to push away the tiredness from them.   
  
“Perhaps a break is in order, Duke?” Minseok piped up beside Yifan, still holding onto the scroll that the latter had been copying from.  
  
Yifan’s face lit up at the suggestion but fell promptly when he eyed the pile of work still on his desk, “I really should finish this first. The New Moon is approaching quickly and I have to determine all the rent due this month from the merchants in the city.”  
  
Minseok nodded, “Of course, Your Grace,” he answered dutifully, holding out the scroll closer to Yifan so the Duke could read off it easier.  
  
Yifan stared at the numbers for a beat before grumbling and dropping his chin into his chest, hands coming up to his head and mussing his neat hairdo with frustration. Minseok laughed lightly at his side and Yifan turned to glare at the knowing look on his servant’s face. “Don’t mock me! You want to get sacked?” he exclaimed though there was no seriousness in his tone.  
  
Minseok’s eyes continued to twinkle though he bit down on his lip to control his smile, “No, of course not, Your Grace. Might I suggest just a snack break then? Shall I have the kitchen bring over your favourite? Or perhaps just some tea?”  
  
Yifan contemplated the chrysanthemum jellies he loved before sighing and picking up his brush once more, dipping it lightly into the black ink, “No, I’ll finish this quickly and we’ll go into town for lunch. I’m craving those steamed buns at that restaurant down by the docks.”  
  
…  
  
Yixing found Lu Han sitting on the ground balcony of _The Star_ , kicking his feet back and forth as he nibbled on a plain bun, gaze fixed on the leafy peach blossom trees that had been planted long before Lady Pearl had become the owner of the establishment.  
  
“Hey, you,” Yixing whispered as he crouched down next to the young boy, taking care to keep his robes clear of the small puddle just over the edge of the deck.  
  
Lu Han nearly jumped in alarm, turning with startled eyebrows and dropping his lunch into the dirt. “Oh!” he exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet to bow, “What did you need me to do, Lay?”  
  
Yixing sighed as he stood up straight once more, “When did you start calling me by that name? I told you to call me Yixing when I found you stealing food on the streets so long ago, if I recall correctly” he laughed, running a hand through the younger’s messy hair.  
  
Lu Han dropped his head to stare at his feet, “The other girls yell at me when I call you Yixing,” he mumbled quietly, one hand on the opposite elbow nervously.  
  
“There aren’t any of the other girls around here, are there?” Yixing asked quietly only to have the boy shrug noncommittally. Yixing sighed as he tried to straighten out the messy hairs on Lu Han’s head, “How about this then, call me Yixing when it’s just you and me?”  
  
A barely audible ‘yes’ came from the boy and Yixing smiled, holding out his hand for the younger, “Come on, I have to go buy some things and I need you to help me carry it.” Lu Han took the offered hand, only to pull back slightly slightly when Yixing started forwards. Yixing turned around to look down at the boy puzzled, “What’s wrong?” Yixing started to ask before he followed the younger’s gaze to his dropped lunch with a sigh. “Just leave it, Lu Han. It’s fine, we’ll go get something in town, okay? My treat.”  
  
The trip to town was relatively short and as they neared the store where Yixing has first found Lu Han, the courtesan felt the boy’s grip around his hand tighten. Yixing returned a reassuring squeeze, hoping it was enough to soothe Lu Han of the memory of getting beat by the boss mercilessly for stealing a couple of steamed buns for his street friends.  
  
Yixing remembered the day like it was yesterday, looking up from checking out jewelry to find a couple of boys whispering as they eyed the steaming bamboo tray. He’d watched as Lu Han waited until the boss had turned around before lifting the lid and tossing a few of the breads at his friend before the yelling started. Lu Han had glanced once between the boss and his friend before darting in the opposite direction of the latter, clearly trying to distract the shop owner from his partners in crime. Yixing had excused himself quickly from the lady trying to sell him a purple flower pendant hanging off a long chain, hurrying to stop the shop owner with the excuse that he was the delinquent’s old sister, making a show of scolding “her younger brother” before turning and apologizing to the red faced man, offering to pay for the stolen goods; “You know how boys are, he was just angry I didn’t play with him this morning. Wanted attention is all,” he’d lied. The shop owner had calmed instantly at a pretty girl’s smile, dropping the issue completely with a smile as he backtracked to his shop.  
  
Yixing looked down at Lu Han as they rounded the corner leading to one of his favourite restaurants, “I’m sorry to say, Lu Han, but Yixing ge lied about needing you to carry my things today.”  
  
Lu Han looked up at his guardian with wide eyes, grip tightening as though terrified of the reasons Yixing had brought him here, the worry of abandonment evident across his face. _The Star_ ’s First Lady smiled gently, “No no, don’t worry. I just thought you might be missing your friends back here, it’s been awhile since you’ve seen them, right? I thought we could get some lunch, maybe buy some extra so you could bring it to your friends?” he suggested lightly, breaking into a smile when Lu Han’s face lit up brightly at the idea.  
  
…  
  
Yifan strolled through the streets, arms swinging on either side of him animatedly, nodding with a small acknowledging smile when pedestrians naturally cleared a path for the Duke. “Think it’ll be busy at the restaurant today, Seok?” he conversed idly as he stopped to admire some of the clay dolls being sold at a cart on the side of the road.  
  
“Perhaps,” Minseok answered, “Though I’m sure we’ll manage to get a table somehow,” he continued, mild sarcasm in his voice; even if the restaurant _was_ very busy, it was almost guaranteed that they’d manage to find a free table for the Duke.  
  
“No thank you, sir. I’m actually on a personal errand.”  
  
Yifan’s ears perked up at the familiar voice and his eyes automatically searched the crowds in front of him, trying to figure out who it belonged to.  
  
“Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart.”  
  
Yifan watched for a moment as he finally put a name to the familiar face: Lay.  
  
“ _Please_ ,” Lay replied in a calm voice but Yifan could sense the irritation in his eyes as he flinched barely noticeably from the much older man’s finger as it grazed his cheek. Lay reached out gracefully to pull his hair back from another man’s grasp, “I have to go now,” he continued, clearly trying to remain polite.  
  
Yifan frowned as he watched the trio of older men trail after Lay as he started to back away, disgust making its way onto his expression. Currently, for all intents and purposes, Lay was supposed to be a female, and to see a lady treated like this in public made Yifan’s blood boil under his skin.  
  
“What’s your rush?” the third man said with a smirk as he grabbed Lay around the elbow, hardly noticing the Duke when he came up from behind.  
  
“Is something the matter here?” Yifan piped up, smile friendly but hardly masking the dangerous glint in his eye as he eyed the three men carefully before lowering his deliberate gaze to the hand on Lay’s elbow.  
  
“Just having a conversation with this lovely lady here,” one of them explained, taking deliberate steps backwards as his previous haughty posture lost confidence in the presence of royalty.  
  
Lay took the interruption as an opportunity to pull his arm back to himself as he eyed the Duke warily.  
  
Yifan crossed his arms, making a dramatic ‘Ooohh’ motion with his lips as he continued the conversation in a friendly tone, “Well, if you three don’t mind, she and I will be getting back to our lunch date then.” The shock and confusion that mixed on their individual faces as they glanced between their Duke and Lay, pulled the corners of Yifan’s lips into an actual smile.  
  
“But she’s a who-” one of the trio started before receiving a quick jab in the side from the man on his right who bowed in apology for his companion.  
  
“Ever so sorry, Sir. We did not realize that she was exclusively with you. We shall be taking our leave now.” The man bowed again before beckoning the others to follow suite. they ducked their heads and hurried away, taking care to give the Duke a wide berth as they shifted past him.  
  
Yifan waited a brief moment before calling out again, “Wait.” The simple command was enough to halt the men in their steps and round immediately to face Yifan. “I believe it is to Lay you owe an apology, not to me,” he said simply, bringing up a hand to observe his fingernails in a bored manner. He raised an eyebrow at the man who seemed to be the leader when he heard no immediate response.  
  
Yifan watched as bewilderment crossed the faces of the three men, clearly wondering if the Duke was being _serious_ about apologizing to the _likes of Lay_. The Duke waited another moment before turning to face Minseok, who had remained quiet through the exchange, standing dutifully at his master’s side. “Say, Seok, don’t these men look familiar?”  
  
Minseok nodded, “Yes, sir. His son owns the butcher shop just at the end of the road here. His cousin owns a couple of farms an hour’s trek from here. They sell some rather fresh and delicious vegetables at their street stall. And his daughter works at that noodle house we passed on the way here. The food there was rather delicious today, don’t you think?” Minseok gestured to each male as he recited the information, Yifan nodding along even though the pair had made no such stop earlier on their way to his favourite restaurant.  
  
“Ahhh, yes. It’d be such a shame if any of them should have to close down, don’t you think?”  
  
Yifan watched with mild enjoyment as the colour vanished from all their faces at the obvious implications the Duke was making. They immediately turned slightly to face Lay instead and bowed deep, backs making right angles with their legs. “Our deepest apologies, my lady. It won’t happen again,” the leader said (to a chorus of agreeing mumbles from his two followers) before glancing at Yifan for an acknowledgement. The Duke continued to smile easily, hands behind his back as he nodded their dismissal.  
  
…  
  
Yixing stared at the three quickly retreating figures, eyebrows raised in awe; he’d never seen someone run away with their figurative tail tucked between their legs quite like that before. He shouldn’t be surprised really, this _was_ the Duke he was talking about. He just hadn’t thought his command of everyone around him would be so… tactful?  
  
“Are you quite alright, Lay was it?”  
  
The voice of the Duke shook him from his reverie and he had to blink twice before remembering to smile and bow graciously, “Thank you, Your Grace,” he replied quietly, remembering his manners. “And please, you don’t have to put anyone out of business.”  
  
The Duke crossed his arms, “They were rude to a lady. Certainly, they would deserve it,” he explained before a soft sigh escaped his lips, “But don’t worry. They might have poor manners, but they bring good business. Too many other families depend on their goods. It would be an irresponsible decision to remove them from this town.”  
  
A guilty weight lifted from Yixing’s shoulders now that he was no longer in danger of being the reason someone’s family might starve. The neighbours were certainly correct when they said that even though the Duke was young, he seemed to have a good grasp on what the town needed. Yixing nodded his appreciation as his eye caught sight of the shop at the end of the road where he’d promised Lu han they’d eat at. “I must really be going now,” he said, giving another bow before taking a step to the side before attempting to walk past the Duke, ignoring the warning in his head to not finish a conversation with the Duke before he was allowed to.  
  
“So soon?” Yifan countered, taking a step backwards to block Yixing’s path.  
  
Yixing smiled despite the irritation starting to make itself home; he was on private time, he shouldn’t have to entertain the Duke with Lu Han in tow. “I’ve made a promise with a friend today, Your Grace,” Yixing explained, looking down at the Lu Han in hopes that the Duke would understand that he had personal matters to attend to.  
  
The Duke seemed alarmed when he looked down at Lu Han, as though he hadn’t noticed the boy when he’d first intervened on Lay’s behalf. He paused for a beat before a wide grin spread across his face, getting into a crouch to face Lu Han properly (much to his manservant’s objections). “Hi!” the Duke greeted animatedly, voice a little louder than before in a clear attempt to drown out his manservant. “What’s your name?”  
  
Yixing watched with bated breath as Lu Han took a step back from the Duke to hide behind Yixing’s leg, peeking out at the Duke for a second before disappearing into safety again, hand gripping onto Yixing’s tightly. A wave of worry washed over Yixing as he wondered what punishment would await The Boy Who Ignored The Duke and he pulled Lu Han in front of him forcedly. “This is Duke Wu, Lu Han. It’s rude to not say hello.”  
  
“H-hi,” Lu Han said curtly, eyes glued to the ground even as the Duke took his hand and studied the dirt under the nails.  
  
Yixing tried to contain his embarrassment for Lu Han as he pressed against the child’s back in an attempt to make him bow stiffly, “I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace. He’s usually a really good boy. He just gets shy around strangers,” he apologized, hoping it was enough that the Duke would not try to harm the boy.  
  
The Duke looked up at Yixing, clearly nonplussed by the child’s reaction, “Is he… your brother?” he asked instead, getting to his feet and ruffling Lu Han’s hair a little.  
  
Yixing thanked his stars that Lu Han had stayed in place, albeit still staring hard at the pebbles on the dirt road; at least he hadn’t run away from the Duke behind Yixing again. “Oh, no, not really,” Yixing answered, though unsure of how to properly explain his relationship with the boy he’d picked off the streets. “I just look after him,” he explained incompletely.  
  
The Duke gave another smile at Lu Han before giving his full attention to Yixing, “Do you perhaps have time for some food? I would love for some company as I eat today.”  
  
Yixing chewed his bottom lip as he looked down at Lu Han, who had now started to kick at the dirt idly, avoiding eye contact with the Duke. It was certainly not in his best interest to reject an invitation from the Duke, but it was equally hard to break his promise with Lu Han, the only person he liked in his life.  
  
The Duke seemed to notice Yixing’s inner turmoil, raising an eyebrow before crouching once more to meet Lu Han. “Do you mind if I interrupt your date with Lay jiejie for some dumplings? You look like you’re hungry too.”  
  
At the mention of food, Lu Han finally looked up at the Duke, a small smile forming before he nodded. Yixing wanted to laugh at how easily the hungry child could change his attitude towards the Duke but he held himself back respectfully, a little indignant that Lu Han let go of his hand to take the Duke’s. “We can’t intrude on you like that, Your Grace,” Yixing tried to decline, keeping Lu Han back with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
The Duke smiled, clearly convinced of his persuasiveness. “Come on, my treat,” he commented simply with no room for objection before turning and starting down the road, his manservant gesturing for Yixing to go ahead. The courtesan sighed softly in defeat and followed the Duke, making sure to remain a couple respectful steps behind.  
  
“What are you all the way back there for?” the Duke piped up, turning around and starting to walk backwards down the road, Lu Han letting go of his hand to rejoin Yixing’s side and to give the Duke’s faithful servant curious looks. Yixing kept quiet through a smile and the Duke let out a sigh, slowing his pace when he turned to walk forwards again, making sure to keep pace with Yixing’s graceful steps.  
  
Yixing kept his head down, one hand holding onto Lu Han and the other held delicately over his mouth. He paused when he arrived at the restaurant, looking up at the name written in fancy letters over their heads; they were exactly where they he had planned to bring Lu Han in the first place. The Duke waved at the owner of the place and the quartet waited patiently to be directed to their table.  
  
Yixing thanked the server who held out his chair for him, taking care to sit an appropriate distance from the Duke’s side. Lu Han kicked his feet happily in his seat on the other side of Yixing while the Duke’s servant remained standing at alert. “He won’t be joining us?” Yixing asked out loud as he picked up the teapot and filled the Duke’s cup.  
  
The Duke snorted in amused as he thanked Yixing, “Why don’t _you_ try to convince Minseok to join us? I’ve given up over the years.”  
  
Yixing filled Lu Han’s cup and then finally his own before he looked up at the man servant, trying to figure out a way to have him stop standing awkwardly behind the Duke. A server arrived before he came up with a solution, placing a plate of steaming buns on the table noiselessly.  
  
“Minseok is a funny name,” Lu Han said quietly without looking up, picking up the spoon in his bowl and inspecting the patterns.  
  
Yixing nearly spilled his tea, the dark liquid brimming dangerously at his cup’s edge before he remembered to upright the teapot, “Lu Han!” he hissed to his side, hoping fervently once more that the Duke wouldn’t take offense. To his surprise though, the Duke only stared at Lu Han for a beat before he broke out into a wide smile that pulled at the corners of his eyes.  
  
“Did you hear that, Seok? The boy thinks you have a weird name!” the Duke laughed out loud and Yixing nearly had a heart attack when the Duke turned to face Lu Han with a serious expression. “I agree, boy. He does have a funny name, doesn’t he?”  
  
Lu Han didn’t meet the Duke’s eye, looking up instead to stare at the manservant and then at the steaming dish in the middle of the table. He picked up his chopsticks and reached for one of buns, stabbing it through the center with the pair of wooden sticks and bringing it to himself, “And he looks like buns too. _Baozi_.”  
  
The three adults around the table all froze as Lu Han continued to bite into his lunch without a care. Yixing was the first to react first, fumbling to stand up and bow in apology to both the Duke and his servant. The Duke was second, glancing at the standing statue behind him and then at Lu Han with barely contained amusement as he told Yixing that it was fine, that the courtesan should not worry himself and that he should sit down and enjoy lunch.  
  
Yixing took his seat once more, glancing nervously at the pale face that seemed to have frozen in place, eyes staring ahead with bewilderment.  
  
“Uh, Seok? You going to be okay there?” the Duke asked, shoving an entire steamed bun into his mouth as his eyes twinkled up at his audience.  
  
The Duke’s servant blinked back into reality, turning to stare at Lu Han for a beat before he collapsed into the seat next to the Duke and across from Yixing, speechless.  
  
The Duke snickered, finally losing the fight to remain passive, “Well, I suppose that’s _one_ way to get him to sit,” he concluded, winking at Lu Han and prizing him with another steamed bun that the boy accepted in his bowl greedily, still clueless about the chaos he’d accidentally caused.  
  
Yixing watched as the manservant turned to subtly glare at Lu Han, the colour in his face returning just a little. “I’m terribly sorry. He’s got no idea what he’s saying.”  
  
Minseok looked up abruptly from Lu Han to Yixing and smiled kindly, “That’s alright, Lay jie. That’s what boys do I suppose,” he said with a calm tone, though Yixing wasn’t sure if he was done glaring at the ten year old he was now sitting next to.  
  
“Well, now that we have you here, why don’t you have a bite?” the Duke continued, clearly trying to move the conversation away from his servant’s embarrassment.  
  
Yixing found himself starting to wonder why exactly he thought it to be a good idea to bring Lu Han out in public when the latter piped up inopportunely again, “Yeah! Baozi should eat some baozi with us!”  
  
The manservant grew red in the face and had to clear his throat as he deliberately looked away from the child to face his master, “With your permission, Duke, I’d like to be excused from this lunch.”  
  
The Duke didn’t look up as he picked up another morsel, dropping it neatly in Yixing’s bowl, “Oh come on, Seok. Be a good sport. The kid’s clearly harmless.”  
  
Yixing stared down at his bowl in an effort not to have to meet Minseok’s gaze. He picked up his chopsticks and poked at his food for a moment before he felt a nudge in the elbow.  
  
“Is it not to your liking?” the Duke asked, attention moving from his servant to Yixing fully (the courtesan tried to ignore the way Minseok’s lips moved slightly as though in a silent curse).  
  
Yixing shook his head, picking up the bun and taking a delicate bite from it, “It’s fine. It’s just that, like I said, I made a commitment today and I don’t want to break it,” he explained, trying his best to not be offensive while getting his point across.  
  
“If I may ask, what exactly is this errand that’s so important you might blow off lunch with the Duke?”  
  
Yixing waved his hand as he swallowed his bite, “No, no! Please don’t think that I’m trying to get away from you, Duke!” he tried to cover, standing up once more to bow deeply in apology.  
  
The Duke laughed again, something that made Yixing start to wonder if everything was just a joke to him always. “I’m just kidding with you, Lay. I’m not offended. I just want to know if I can help.”  
  
“We were going to go visit my friends,” Lu Han piped up again, clearly more comfortable ( _now that he’d been bribed with food_ , Yixing thought), “I haven’t seen them in a while.”  
  
The Duke raised an eyebrow at the information, “Where are your friends then?” he asked Lu Han, leaning across the table towards the boy, who only shrugged once in response before reaching for more food. “Was Lay supposed to help you find them?” A nod. The Duke sat back in his seat once more when Lu Han seemed to lose interest in the conversation and dove in his lunch once more, and he waited for the server to place a second steaming plate in the middle of the table before leaning over to Yixing to whisper in his ear. “He’s an orphan?”  
  
Yixing could only shake his head, “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “Maybe, maybe not. But when I found him, he’d been alone.” Yixing chose not to elaborate one the entirety of that day.  
  
The Duke dropped the topic after that, making sure to order an excessive amount of food that he later on had packed away to give to Lu Han ‘because he’d been less hungry than he’d thought and it was bad to waste food’. Yixing had a hard time trying to decipher whether the Duke was pitying them or trying to actually be helpful. Either way, he didn’t like being indebted to anyone.  
  
The quartet stood off to the side outside the restaurant and Yixing tried to think of a way to subtly thank the Duke for his generosity, but the latter was making a point of ignoring Yixing, crouching once more to look Lu Han in the eye. “Would you mind if I borrowed Lay for a little longer, and in exchange, Minseok will help you find your friends?”  
  
“I beg your pardon?” Minseok responded immediately, eyes wide, clearly in disbelief that the Duke could assign such an errand after what had transpired inside just a few moments ago.  
  
The Duke seemed nonplussed by the alarm in his servant’s voice, “I’d like to spend some more time with Lay,” he said simply as he tucked his arms in opposite sleeves, starting to stroll along the road. “We shall meet here again as the sun starts to set.”  
  
Minseok let out a long sigh that Yixing didn’t miss before he bowed and offered his hand to Lu Han, who looked up at Yixing as though asking for permission. Yixing held back the grin on his expression, wanting to laugh at how easily Lu Han seemed to have gone from practically terrified of these strangers to starting to make affectionate nicknames for them (Yixing wondered for a second what ridiculous name the boy would come up for the Duke). Lu Han gave a small wave and smiled at Yixing before skipping ahead of Minseok a couple meters, pausing and waiting for the older man to catch up.


	3. Chapter 3

Yixing stared after Lu Han and his temporary guardian, a small worry creasing his forehead as he watched the duo turn at a corner out of sight.  
  
"So," the Duke started when Yixing finally returned his focus to him, “Now that we’re alone, would you mind if I asked you a personal question?”  
  
Yixing tensed, though he hardly let it show on his features, simply turning into a shop and studying the different coloured rolls of fabric on the shelves, fingers dancing from one silk to a cotton. He remembered exactly the last time he’d answered a personal question honestly; less than two months later, the doctor had found a new favourite on the opposite side of town. “Which one of these do you like best, Your grace?” Yixing asked instead, his eye catching a deep blue cloth on the right; the travelling businessman that always asked for Yixing when he showed up at _The Star_ every time his ship docked here had a certain affinity for that colour. Perhaps he should get a new dress made before the businessman’s next visit?  
  
“That green there is much nicer,” the Duke answered, pointing to a roll on the opposite wall, and Yixing quickly noted the new information in his head, wondering how long he would have to keep that information before the Duke stopped coming around.  
  
“Why are you pretending to be a woman?” the Duke asked, clearly unperturbed by Yixing’s attempt at a distraction.  
  
The courtesan returned the blue cloth to its place and nodded with a smile at the shop owner as he stepped back on the street. Any other person might be concerned about never turning his back to a duke of all people but Yixing knew how much line he had to play with. _The Duke_ had been the one to request time alone with Lay. He had hardly been bothered about Lu Han’s antics in the restaurant. He didn’t even concern himself too much with the fact that Yixing had ignored his original question by posing his own. _The Duke_ , Yixing thought to himself, pausing at another shop and greeting the bakery owner with a smile that earned him a fresh sweet bread, _was going to be pretty easy._ He feigned innocence as he returned to the Duke’s side, ripping off a piece and feeding the Duke before he took a small bite himself.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong,” the Duke continued the one sided conversation in between bites, “You play it very well.”  
  
Yixing pretended to be interested with a raised eyebrow as he fed the Duke another piece, threading his arm through his elbow.  
  
The Duke nodded, though Yixing couldn’t tell if it was in response to him or to the townsman who had cleared aside for the Duke, greeting with all the proper respective suffixes.  
  
“You’re a very beautiful person, Lay.”  
  
 _Only because I let you bed me_ , Yixing thought snidely on the inside while he played abashed on the outside. “You’re too kind, Your Grace.”  
  
“I’m serious, Lay. I’d like for you to answer me.”  
  
Yixing recognized the tone and he decided it was in his best interest to answer now.  
  
Or at least provide a sufficiently believable reply.  
  
He maintained a light attitude as he smiled up at the Duke, “I’m not sure what kind of response you’re expecting, Your Grace. I’m a rather simple person. I get to dress up in pretty clothes, meet nice people who buy me pretty things, get to go to fancy parties…?”  
  
The Duke stopped walking and Yixing had to pause as well, turning to face the Duke head on.  
  
“But why as a woman? Why not just as yourself? A man?”  
  
Yixing stared back at the Duke as an amused smile made its way across his face, “I mean no disrespect Your Grace, but would you have taken such an interest in me when you first saw me if you knew I was a man?”  
  
The startled alarm on the Duke’s face wasn’t unfamiliar, though he was probably the quickest out of everyone to have ever posed the same question to recover, “Of course, Lay. I told you. You’re quite beautiful.”  
  
Yixing’s chin fell to his chest in disappointment but he pretended to be hiding his embarrassment at the compliment. “Thank you,” he replied quietly.  
  
 _Thank you, but you’re not the first to lie to me._  
  
…  
  
Yifan held his hands behind his back as he watched Lay pause at another street vendor, smiling kindly at the old woman that owned it. _His charm works on both women and men_ , Yifan observed, responding appropriately when Lay excitedly took half of the dragon fruit that the old woman had offered and dug a spoon into it, offering the first bite to Yifan. He knew it was just the courtesan’s job to entertain him, but Yifan played along anyway, finding himself getting intrigued.  
  
Yifan hardly believed the explanation Lay had provided about why he dressed as a girl and he found the ‘thank you’ that Lay had offered at Yifan’s compliment not quite sincere. He didn’t care though, because somehow, even when he knew Lay was only doing his job by complimenting the Duke and “accidentally” brushing his fingers across Yifan’s arm Lay was still more attractive than anyone Yifan had ever met before.  
  
The duo ducked into a quaint jewelry shop tucked between a bakery and a tailor and Lay’s face lit up, heading straight for the display of hair ornaments, while Yifan stayed near the entrance, looking down at a tray of bracelets, his attention drawn to a simple ring made of purple beads.  
  
“What do you think of this one, Your Grace?” Lay chirped as he skipped up to Yifan, holding up an ornament with pearls that hung off the end of branches of gold. The duke took the ornament from Lay and slid it neatly behind the flower that was already in the courtesan’s hair, finger pausing briefly to graze over Lay’s cheek as he straightened the hair.  
  
“A beautiful pin to match a beautiful face,” Yifan commented, receiving a shy smile from Lay in return. Lay asked the shop owner for a mirror, turning to face the entrance to catch the light properly as h admired the hairpin in his reflection. Yifan smiled at the almost obvious invitation for him to buy the expensive pin as a gift but he still walked up to the counter where the shop owner stood. He dug into his wide belt for his money pouch and pulled out a handful of coins, not bothering to count them before placing them on the counter. He didn’t wait for any change to be returned even though he’s probably paid twice the amount than what his purchase had been listed for.  
  
“Shall we go?” Yifan asked, holding out his arm for the courtesan to take. “Minseok and Lu Han should be done by now, no?”  
  
Lay appeared alarmed when he looked up the sky, “I hadn’t realised so much time had passed already,” he commented out loud, though seemingly to himself before he turned to Yifan again. “We should go then.”  
  
The entire time that Yifan had spent with Lay, the latter had seemed cheerful but the Duke had to re-evaluate his observations when he noticed the sparkle in Lay’s eyes as he looked forward to reuniting with the small boy. He wondered for the fiftieth time what their actual relationship was as he quickened his pace, knowing that Lay was only holding back out of respect for the Duke.  
  
The pair arrived at the restaurant first and Yifan purchased a snack from a nearby cart, leaning against a brick wall as they waited. The Duke watched quietly as Lay paced the length of the restaurant, holding the mini skewered sweet rice balls, untouched in his hand. The courtesan stopped every so often to stare up at the sky, though too little time passed in between glances for it to have changed much.  
  
“Oh my, what happened to you, Lu Han?”  
  
Yifan hardly noticed his manservant returning with the boy before Yixing’s startled voice reached his ears. The courtesan promptly dropped the snack in his hand as he briskly walked past Yifan towards Lu Han, who was holding onto Minseok’s hand with a smile on his face.  
  
“We couldn’t find his friends, so we did a little shopping instead,”’ Minseok spoke up for Lu Han. “Figured he could use with some new clothes.”  
  
Lay knelt to face the boy head on, fingers tracing the intricate pattern of an expensive shirt that made Yifan look up at Minseok suspiciously. His manservant only avoided Yifan’s gaze.  
  
“You really didn’t have to. How much was it? I’ll pay you back,” Lay rambled, never once looking up at his audience as he finally noticed the small bruise flowering on the boy’s cheek.  
  
“It’s okay,” the boy offered before Lay could get a sound out of his open mouth, “I just tripped on a rock on the way here, but Baozi helped me back up. He even bought me a lollipop!” he exclaimed, raising his arm to show Lay his prize.  
  
Yifan heard Lay kiss his teeth in disapproval as he tried to tame a stray hair atop the boy’s head. “You should be more careful, silly boy,” he reprimanded lightly, pausing to frown at a cut on the boy’s lip that Yifan hadn’t noticed before. “Let’s go back and get you cleaned up, okay?” He gazed up at Minseok with a sincere smile Yifan swore the courtesan hadn’t once shown since their time together, “I really appreciate you looking after him today. Thank you.”  
  
Lu Han turned to point at Yifan with his candy, “But what about Eyebrows Shushu?”  
  
Lay’s head snapped around as he stood up, surprise clear on his face as though he had plainly forgotten that Yifan had been there the entire time. He swallowed visibly as he brought a hand up to tuck a hair behind his ear nervously.  
  
Yifan hardly noticed the peculiar nickname that the boy had given him, only waving his hand dismissively when Lay turned to face him, “It’s alright. I shall come visit you another time. Go take care of the boy.”  
  
Lay bowed thankfully before taking the boy by the hand again, using his sleeve to wipe at yet another spot on Lu Han’s forehead.  
  
Minseok rejoined Yifan’s side as the pair watched the two disappear and the Duke had to shake his head with amusement, “Bought the boy a new wardrobe _and_ a candy, huh? Thought you didn’t like him.” His servant remained quiet beside him. “You’re going to ask me for that money back aren’t you? Just trying to figure out how best to convince me?” Yifan finally turned around to look at Minseok when the latter still failed to produce a timely response. “Minseok?” he asked carefully, eyebrow cocking up as he studied the perplexed look on the manservant’s face as he continued to stare after Lay and Lu Han.  
  
“He didn’t trip back there,” Minseok finally offered when the departing couple disappeared into the crowd.  
  
Yifan rolled his eyes, “What are you talking about? Have you been in the sun for too long already?”  
  
“The boy didn’t fall. That’s not why he’s got that bruise on his cheek, or the cut on his lip, or that limp in his step.”  
  
“He was limping?” Yifan muttered as he searched the crowd again before realising what the beginning of the statement ment, “Wait, what happened to him then?”  
  
“We _did_ find his friends, but he made me promise that I wouldn’t tell his dear Lay Jie what happened. I took pity on the boy, so please forgive me, Duke, for lying to you before.”  
  
“So what _did_ happen then?”  
  
Minseok swallowed as the pair turned and started home. “Lu Han lead me practically outside the town to a pretty run down house where he just told me to wait outside. I guess he wanted to see his friends on his own, so I handed him the food and let him wander inside. He’d said he’d come back out to introduce me to his friends so I just stood there waiting. It was a while before the door opened and I expected Lu Han to come drag me in to meet his friends or something, but it wasn’t.  
  
I wasn’t looking for trouble, but these guys that left the building… they didn’t look too nice. Lu Han wasn’t part of the crowd that left that building so I went inside once everyone was gone. Found him curled up on the ground, with lunch littered on the ground around him. I don’t know what exactly happened since Lu Han wouldn’t tell me when I managed to get him to his feet, but I don’t think it’s too hard to guess. All he said was to not tell Lay Jiejie what happened and even then, the stupid brat was trying to act all cool, smiling as he tried his best not to cry from his injuries.  
  
“I suggested that we have them arrested, but he only shook his head, saying he didn’t want his friends to get in trouble. His _friends_. He still called them that after what they did. How on earth does a child do that?”  
  
“He asked you to get new clothes then?” Yifan asked, a little confused that the child that Minseok was describing to him would so willingly ask for help from a stranger, but his servant just shook his head.  
  
“Not at all. He refused quite adamantly, but I managed to convince him that he would never be able to fool Lay Jiejie if he looked the way he did. So he let me clean him up a bit.”  
  
Yifan sighed heavily at the story. He should hardly be surprised about things like this happening in town but it was still a little unsettling to have it happen to someone he actually knew (kind of). “And the lollipop then?” he asked quietly, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation.  
  
Minseok shrugged as he tucked his hands into opposite sleeves, “Figured the boy needed a little treat. Used it as a good support for his stupid falling story, didn’t he?”  
  
Yifan chewed his lower lip, not sure what to say but making a mental note to check up on the boy at a later date. “Let’s just go home. Mother is probably wondering why I’m not at the dinner table by now.”  
  
…  
  
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? Looks like it was a pretty nasty fall.” Yixing walked the boy back to his room where Lu Han paused to nod up at him.  
  
“I’m okay, Yixing Gege. I’m just tired from playing with Baozi gege today,” he explained with a yawn. “I’m going to take a nap.”  
  
“Oh, okay,” Yixing replied reluctantly, “Next time, I promise to come meet your friends, okay? I didn’t mean to break my promise today.”  
  
Lu Han shook his head, “It’s okay, Baozi Gege was nice today. And you had Eyebrows Shushu too. It’s no rush to see my friends again, anyway.”  
  
Yixing frowned a little at the change of attitude from this morning but said nothing of it, just waiting until Lu Han closed his door before he headed back to his own room. He sighed as he took a seat in front of his vanity, pulling open one of the drawers that held a variety of different gifts he’d received in the past. He pulled out the pearled ornament from his hair and dropped it haphazardly into the pile; just another symbol of how easy the upper class was to manipulate.


	4. Chapter 4

Yixing let out a sigh for the fourteenth time in the last hour as he rest his chin in his palm, staring at the board in front of him that was half filled with the black and white circles of his game of _weiqi_ with Lu Han. He focused on the quiet clattering of Lu Han tossing Yixing’s pieces into a chipped bowl beside the board, as he tried to ignore the giggles he could still hear from the other side of the door; the same way he had been trying to ignore the not-so-subtle comments the other girls had been making about Lay for the past few days.  
  
Or ten.  
  
He was starting to get tired of the way the other girls at _The Star_ gave him dismissive looks every time they walked past time, and did not care for their haughty attitude either. Yixing was used to the words said behind his back, most of which included indignant complaints on how a _man_ could be _The Star_ ’s number one but recently, the girls had gotten bolder. Thoughts that used to remain unspoken or only shared in hushed tones that never reached Yixing’s ears were being verbalized on purpose for his benefit: _he deserves it; he’s not even that pretty; must’ve slept with Lady Pearl to get that top spot on stage; people are obviously starting to see through him._  
  
Yixing had no idea why Lay’s regulars had started to drop like flies, no idea what he could have done wrong to lose them so quickly. Nothing had changed in the recent days, but in the last month, he’d gone from having more than a dozen regulars to a handful of random walk-ins and the one travelling businessman whom he’d only seen once since the last full moon.  
  
“It’s because of Eyebrows Shushu, you know,” Lu Han offered without looking up from the board when Yixing let out yet another sigh.  
  
The courtesan sat up straight, back in perfect posture as his eyebrows raised up into his forehead in alarm, “What?”  
  
“Remember that day we were in town?” Lu Han continued as he placed his piece and removing Yixing’s before looking up at the older, who was still wearing an expression of bewilderment as he tried to understand what Lu Han was saying. “Eyebrows Shushu kind of made a point of telling everyone you were with him, didn’t he? And he’s someone important, right?”  
  
The real gist of Lu Han’s words didn’t quite reach Yixing as the latter frowned. “Someone important?” he repeated in a reprimanding voice, “He’s the Duke, Lu Han. So you should stop calling him Eyebrows Shushu.”  
  
Lu Han only shrugged as he signal ~~l~~ ed impatiently for Yixing to make his move. “When are he and Baozi Gege going to come back again?”  
  
“I… don’t know.” Yixing placed his piece without much thought, simply to encourage Lu Han to remove his focused stare from him. Luckily for Yixing, the boy grinned as he looked back down at the board and took advantage of the poor move. “He’s probably busy, being the Duke,” Yixing explained obviously, wondering how many days it had been since that encounter in town, how many more strokes on those tallies.  
  
“That’s so boring. I want to play with Eyebrows Shushu again. He has good taste in food.”  
  
Yixing kissed his teeth deliberately in disapproval, “Lu Han. He’s the Duke. You should address him as such next time.”  
  
Lu Han only shrugged again as he finished his move, turning several of Yixing’s white pebbles black with a triumphant grin.  
  
Yixing contemplated the way he’d so easily said ‘next time’, wondering when the Duke would next visit so Yixing could repay him for his gift at the jewelry store.  
  
…  
  
Huang Zitao has a habit of walking into his cousin’s work room without announcement, and usually followed by one of the Duke’s servants trying desperately to do their job only to be dismissed by Yifan.  
  
“Back from another trip?” Yifan asked as he waved one of the servants trying to relieve his younger cousin of one of the bags he was carrying; Zitao had an annoying habit of pretending he didn’t come from royalty, however distantly.  
  
The younger of the two strolled straight to the round table in the middle of the room between the entrance and Kris’ work table and fell into one of the four chairs tucked neatly under the surface, kicking his feet up on the table and shooting a smirk directly at Minseok (whose knuckles had turned white on either side of him), daring the Duke’s most faithful servant to say something about his ‘poor conduct not befitting Master Yifan’s family’, as Minseok had once put so eloquently. Yifan let Minseok seethe for a moment before telling him to grab something from the kitchen, knowing that the latter would appreciate the distance from Zitao.  
  
“That’s quite alright, actually. I’m not staying long.”  
  
Minseok bowed as he started for the door, “I’ll go anyway,” he answered as politely as he could and Yifan glared at Zitao who was having a hard time not laughing.  
  
“He hates me, doesn’t me?” the younger of the two remaining men in room snickered.  
  
Yifan placed his brush down lightly, the inked hairs hanging over the plate of black and got to his feet to join Zitao in the seat on the other side of the table his cousin was still using as a foot rest, “He doesn’t hate you, but he would probably like you more if you didn’t put your dirty shoes everywhere,” he answered with a shake of his head as he nudged Zitao’s feet off his furniture with a folded fan.  
  
Zitao rolled his eyes but placed his feet properly on the ground, acknowledging that while Yifan tolerated his free-spirited antics, it was with wary that he did so. “Just came by to give you this,” Zitao said, reaching into one of his bags and sliding a neat tin can across the spotless surface towards his cousin who hummed appreciatively when he recognized the seal as he turned the tin in his hand. “Thought you might be running low from the last time I came around. Maybe you should come with me on one of my trips west and you can see what else you like there?”  
  
Yifan chuckled as he replaced the tin can back on the table’s surface a lot more gracefully than Zitao had done a moment earlier, “Ahh, it must be nice to be you, without a town to be responsible for, to simply travel to unexplored areas for the Emperor,” he joked, scowling slightly when Zitao started to lean backwards in his chair, half the legs coming off the ground as he rocked back and forth slowly. “You’re going to fall and hurt yourself.”  
  
Zitao ignored the warning as he crossed his arms, “We should switch,” he suggested breezily.  
  
“As if you could ha-”  
  
“As if I could handle all the responsibility of holding a town together, right?” Zitao finished for the Duke with a roll of his eyes, “Don’t lie, Yifan. We both know you wouldn’t be able to leave this town for more than a few days. You love it too much, just admit it.”  
  
Yifan only scowled at his cousin disdainfully, but he knew Zitao was right, even if he would never admit it to his cousin’s face.  
  
“Anyway,” Zitao announced as he hopped to his feet once more, “The next time I’m here, we should go have a drink together. Show me the town, you know, and where to find the pretty girls,” he finished, with a casual wink before turning and holding up two fingers as he departed, no doubt some strange gesture he must have picked up on his travels.  
  
 _And where to find the pretty girls_.  
  
Yifan’s mind wandered idly to _The Star_ and he counted the days since the new moon, trying to figure out if Lay would be performing tonight. As Minseok returned with a plate of red bean pastries, he decided it hardly mattered if he showed up on a non-performance night, he could still ask for whomever he wanted.  
  
…  
  
There was barely the slightest of warning taps on his door before it was slid open quickly, with the Duke looking in through the curtains that hung at the entrance, making Yixing jump in his seat slightly in alarm.  
  
“Lay?”  
  
It took a moment for Yixing to gather his bearings as he put down the stick of kohl and folded the page quickly into his mirror before getting up to bow gracefully. “I wasn’t aware that you had stopped by, Your Grace,” he started, trying to hide his surprise, “Lady Pearl said nothing…”  
  
The Duke interrupted with a quick shake of his head, “I only just arrived a moment ago and I came straight here myself.”  
  
“Ah, I see,” Yixing replied simply as he watched the Duke turn his attention to the decorative silk sheets that hung from his walls as he strolled around the room lazily. _Well, get on with it_ , he wanted to say but he stayed his tongue, his face a perfect image of patience and respect.  
  
“When is your next performance?” The Duke finally spoke up, turning around to face Yixing squarely.  
  
Taken a little by surprise at the suddenness of the question, Yixing stuttered a couple of times before a proper answer fell from his mouth, “In three sunsets, Your Grace.”  
  
The Duke nodded once before turning his attention back to exploring the rest of Yixing’s room, hand sliding open the door to Yixing’s bedroom slowly and peering into it as if he expected to find someone inside, “I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?”  
  
“No, Your Grace, of course not,” he answered curtly, deciding that if the Duke had come straight to his room, he hadn’t yet heard from the other girls that Yixing’s popularity was falling.  
  
 _I wonder how long that’ll last?_  
  
Yixing was just glad he would be able to repay the Duke for his gift before the latter decided he didn’t want what no one else wanted either.  
  
“Where’s the boy? The one that you were with in town that other day?”  
  
“Lu Han? I’m not sure. Helping in the kitchen perhaps?” he answered vaguely, almost afraid that the Duke might hear his impatience; what was with all the questions? There really was no need for all this small talk.  
  
As if reading Yixing’s mind, the Duke turned around and extended a hand to the courtesan, a smile spreading across his symmetric features, “Well, shall we then?”  
  
Yixing returned the smile generously and glided towards the Duke, making sure to rub his hands together under the cover of his sleeves to warm them. “Of course, Your Grace,” he answered as he pressed his hand into the Duke’s, holding the latter’s eye as he leaned over briefly to blow out the nearest candle.


	5. Chapter 5

Yixing leaned on the railing on the second floor that looked out over the main floor where he could see the other girls entertaining their patrons in the flickering candle light. It was yet another uneventful night for Lay and Yixing was beginning to wonder how many more nights Lady Pearl would allow him before trouble rained down on him. He scowled to himself as he watched one of his previous regulars step in through the entrance, catching Yixing’s eye and then immediately looking away.  
  
Shaking his head in disappointment, Yixing turned around back into his room and closed his door with a heavy sigh, wondering what menial task he could do tonight to pass the time. He’d already organized his makeup drawer, sorted his dresses according to colour and rearranged the decorative silks hanging from the walls in the last few nights of boredom. He eyed his room with a wary eye, crossing his arms in contemplation before he spotted the set of clothes Lu Han had asked him to return to “Baozi Gege”.  
  
 _Maybe I should go return these tonight_ , he thought to himself as he searched for a carrying cloth to wrap the fine silks in. He slid his door open once more, peeking out to make sure that no one would be missing his absence; Lady Pearl was busy doing her rounds to make sure everything was running smoothly and the other girls hardly even bothered to acknowledge Yixing’s existence any more. Yixing checked to make sure that he was wearing the Duke’s gift in his hair before he left quietly through a side door, hugging the bundled clothes to his chest and hoping fervently that it would be enough to keep the expensive clothes clean.  
  
*  
  
Everyone knew where the Duke lived, behind the high walls erected at the edge of town, twin doors painted red and constantly guarded by two men. With only moonlight guiding him, Yixing made it to a hundred feet from the doors before he stopped to pause and ask himself why he hadn’t simply waited for the Duke to visit _The Star_ to return the clothes. As he admired the intricate detailing of the painted border around the doors, he decided it was merely the curiosity of what was inside the ornate building that forced his feet to bring him here.  
  
And possibly his boredom.  
  
Before Yixing could set a single foot on the handful of steps that led to the guarded doors, one of the men held out a cautionary hand to stop him, “Your business, Miss?”  
  
Noting it was best to tell the simple truth, Yixing explained calmly that he had something to return to the Duke, lifting the bundle briefly in example. The guard eyed the package suspiciously before he turned his skepticism towards Yixing. “I’m sorry, Miss. The Duke is unavailable to see you. I have to ask you to leave now,” he said sternly, taking a step forward to look down at Yixing with warning.  
  
Yixing’s eyebrows furrowed together, sure that the only reason why the guard was declining his entry was because he wasn’t of royalty or anyone else of power. Resigned to accept that he’d made a poor decision in coming here under the assumption that he would be allowed to see the Duke, he let out a sigh and held out the wrapped package, “Could you please pass this on to him, then? Or perhaps just to Minseok?” Yixing added in a last attempt to convince the guard that he meant no harm, that he was on familiar enough terms with the Duke to know the name of his closest servant.  
  
The guard made no move to take the package though he did seem to relax a little, “I’m sorry, Miss. Please leave now.”  
  
Yixing instinctively pulled on a disappointed pout and had to control the almost smile that formed when the guard he had been speaking with faltered once before his partner gave him a shake of the head. Yixing received an apologetic smile before the guard took a step back into his position and the courtesan let out a sigh, turning around to leave again.  
  
…  
  
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” Yifan stopped abruptly in his step and one of his personal guard nearly tripped trying to make sure he didn’t walk into his master. The Duke chewed on the squid he’d purchased from a snack cart a little while ago as he looked the courtesan up and down. “What is a fine lady like yourself doing out and about on your own?”  
  
Lay spun around and there was a momentary look of surprise on his face before his focus settled on the stick in Yifan’s hand, wearing a look of… incredulity? Furrowing his own brow, Yifan handed his snack to the nearest guard before taking a step forward, one hand held up to dismiss the pair standing at the entrance to his home, “Lay?”  
  
The courtesan snapped his attention back to the Duke and he looked down at the wrapped package he was holding. “I… I came to return this,” he whispered, barely audible as he held his arms out, “And to repeat my thanks to your manservant.” Lay looked up and glanced between the men surrounding the Duke, a perplexed look forming slowly.  
  
“Minseok is on another errand,” Yifan explained when he realised who Lay was looking for.  
  
Disappointment flooded into Lay’s features and Yifan wondered when he had started to play second fiddle to his own manservant. “Oh,” the courtesan hesitated before he cleared his throat, “If Your Grace could please tell him thank you again for looking out for Lu Han? And there’s really no need to spoil him with silk,” Lay trailed off, head ducking a little and eyebrows stitching together.  
  
 _And now I’m supposed to be Minseok’s messenger?_  
  
Yifan covered his slight indignation by turning away and starting towards the now opened double doors, smiling internally when Lay followed the implied invitation to join his side. “Is the boy alright then? From his fall?” he asked carefully, sure that if Lay believed Minseok was _spoiling_ Lu Han, he didn’t know about the story Minseok had told Yifan.  
  
There was silence for an answer and Yifan turned to see Lay chewing on his bottom lip in contemplation, “He’s alright I suppose. Though I can’t say I wasn’t alarmed at how much damage a simple fall had done. I keep telling him to be more careful…”  
  
Yifan nodded again as he lead the way towards the sitting room, refraining from volunteering a response that might give away Lu Han’s secret by changing the topic. “While you’re here anyway, I’d like to show you something,” he said without missing a step, holding his hand behind him again.  
  
The Duke heard slight hesitation in the footfalls beside him before Lay’s graceful arm threaded neatly through his own and unfolding his clasped fingers. “Of course.”  
  
…  
  
Yixing found himself surprised when he was invited to sit at a table where a strange looking teapot accompanied with stranger looking cups were set in the center.  
  
“Zitao calls it ‘coffee’, I think,” the Duke explained as he picked up the pot himself and poured a steaming stream of dark liquid into the cup closest to Yixing. “Brought it back from his travels.”  
  
Yixing stared at the liquid in the cup, trying to keep his expression pleasantly interested even as he compared the dark colour of the liquid to the herbal medicinal soups that Lady Pearl always made for all the girls (or himself) at _The Star_ if any of them so much as let out a sneeze. “Zitao is…?” he asked instead, deflecting the attention away from himself.  
  
“He’s my brat of a cousin,” the Duke answered, though Yixing hardly heard him as he picked up the cup and dared a sniff, somewhat relieved that the smell of the dark liquid was much less insulting to his nose than he’d imagined, carrying a mysterious aroma that he’d never experienced before. “Go ahead, try it.”  
  
Yixing swallowed nervously as he brought the cup to his lips and tipped it just a little. He couldn’t control the recoiling grimace and failed to react fast enough to pretend that he had simply burned his tongue. Immediate worry that he had offended the Duke overcame him but the Duke only laughed lightly beside Yixing. “It’s a little bitter, isn’t it?” he asked rhetorically as he reached over and took the cup away, setting it on the table before turning Yixing’s chin to face him. “The first time Zitao introduced me to it, I thought he was trying to feed me poison,” the Duke continued with a joking tone as he took out his handkerchief and wiped it gently across Yixing’s lips.  
  
Yixing hardly heard the rest of the explanation of how the Duke had started to love the flavour after a few full moons as he controlled the urge to flinch away from his patron’s touch; the soft thumb on his chin and the slightest of pressures pressing against his lips was distracting and unsettling somehow.  
  
Silence fell in the room as the Duke finally let go of Yixing and the courtesan looked away and tried to find something else to focus on, pretending he didn’t notice that the Duke was studying him. His eyes fell on the cup the Duke had replaced onto the table and contemplated taking another sip to appease the Duke but the bitter taste was still fresh in the back of his mouth.  
  
“Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?”  
  
The Duke’s sudden voice in the silence took Yixing by surprise, but the line did not; he’d already heard the line so many times before, though this was likely the first time it hadn’t been said _after_ satisfying the customer. His training compelled him to smile at the compliment and he reached out to place his palm delicately on the Duke’s neck as he leaned in to press his lips against the Duke’s.  
  
“Pardon the interruption, My Lord, but your mother is requesting your presence.”  
  
Yixing held back the long sigh when the Duke pulled away and stood up to address the messenger, “Ah, yes, let her know I am on my way. And get one of the guards to escort Lay back home.”  
  
“You Grace?” Yixing piped up quietly, standing up to join the Duke, “I could wait here for you?” _It’s not like I have much else to do tonight._  
  
The Duke shook his head in the slightest. “I still have a few matters to attend to tonight. I shall come visit you another time,” he said, tone final as he tucked his hands behind his back and left the room, his presence replaced promptly by one of his guards that gestured to Yixing to follow him.  
  
*  
  
“The Duke thanks you for the company tonight,” the guard said when he and Yixing approached the front door of _The Star_ , finally breaking the long silence of the walk from the Duke’s home. He held out a small pouch and placed it into Yixing’s hand with a slight jangle before he bowed curtly and headed back towards his master, the light of the lantern he held shrinking into a dot.  
  
Yixing stared dumbly at the payment in his hand before he reminded himself that this had always been the intention, no matter how the night had started. He tucked the pouch into his belt and breathed in deeply before opening the doors, wondering if Lady Pearl had noticed his disappearance at all.  
  
“Where have you been?!”  
  
 _I guess she did_ , Yixing thought to himself as he was pulled aside, Lady Pearl’s whisper sharp and dangerous. He ignored the thumb that pressed painfully into his elbow, wondering calmly if Lady Pearl was actually concerned about _Yixing_ ’s wellbeing, or just _Lay-the-main-attraction._ He supposed the answer was the same as it was every other time. He didn’t object as he was dragged out of the prying eyes and ears of customers, hardly flinching when Lady Pearl’s favourite bamboo stick cracked against the back of his legs; after all, it was his own fault that he’d failed to procure sufficient business in recent weeks.  
  
Yixing swallowed hard and reprimanded himself for getting too comfortable with his position at the top; he’d forgotten he still belonged to the owner of _The Star_. He retrieved the pouch from his waist and placed it on the nearest table. “Good night, Lady Pearl,” he whispered before bowing and taking his leave, keeping his head down as he slipped past a couple of smirking girls who had clearly enjoyed the exchange. Yixing ignored the snide comments, only thankful that Lady Pearl hadn’t released her whole wrath tonight and hoping that whatever the Duke had left him in the silk pouch would be enough to keep it at bay for another while.  
  
Somehow, Yixing was going to have to find a way to remove the dangerous sign above his head that screamed ‘PROPERTY OF THE DUKE’, keeping any potential patrons no closer than an arm’s length.


	6. Chapter 6

A servant girl pulled at a knot in Yifan’s hair with a comb while the latter bit down on his bottom lip to keep from complaining, especially in the presence of his mother.  
  
“Stop making faces, Yifan. And hold still,” the Duke’s Mother reprimanded. “The Emperor’s Youngest Sister is inviting someone else to our monthly dinners so we have to look especially presentable.” She shooed away the servant girl and took the comb into her own hand, guiding it slowly through the long dark hairs.  
  
Yifan took advantage of the fact that his mother was now behind him to roll his eyes and his fingers drummed on his thigh; he disliked sitting for so long without stretching. He shot Minseok a scowl when he caught the latter grinning as the he was _enjoying_ Yifan’s distress.  
  
“ _Stop moving_ ,” his mother commanded again, smacking her son on the forehead.  
  
Yifan crossed his arms irritably, “I will when you stop pulling out all my hair,” he muttered under his breath, not quite quiet enough that his mother couldn’t hear, earning him another whack against his temple. He resisted another retort and settling instead to continuing glowering at his manservant, who appeared to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. He stuck his tongue out before finally averting his gaze to his lap, playing with the bracelet that he’d found abandoned under the table where he had introduced coffee to Lay; it must’ve accidentally fallen before the courtesan left.  
  
Yifan tucked the chain into his sleeve before his mother could see it; there were certain things better let secret between the mother-son duo.  
  
…  
  
“Promise to return to my side the moment your performance is over?”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yixing smiled warmly at the travelling businessman, filling the latter’s wine cup a last time before he stood up, straightening the blue dress he knew was the Businessman’s favourite. “Of course,” he promised with a curtsey before turning away and heading to his dressing room with a deep breath. He thanked the fact that the Businessman was never in town long enough to get acquainted with Lay’s new and unofficial ‘off-limits’ status.  
  
He was in the middle of touching up the powder on his arms when his door slid open and Yixing spun around to find the Duke there. “Oh!” he exclaimed, disliking the alarm evident in his voice. He cleared his throat as he pulled his sleeves down in a hurry to cover the incomplete make-up. “How can I help you?” he asked, recovering quickly from the slip-up. He eyed the Duke curiously, taking in the way he seemed to be dressed particularly nicely.  
  
“You left this behind the other night when you came to return the boy’s clothes,” the Duke answered, holding out the bracelet for Yixing to take.  
  
Yixing’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead as he feigned surprise, even though he’d purposely left behind the excuse for the Duke to return to _The Star_. “Ah. Thanks for returning it. I had been looking for it.”  
  
The Duke, looking especially imposing with his vibrant colours and his hands held behind his back, raised an analysing eyebrow, “Except you left it on purpose, didn’t you?”  
  
Yixing looked up, this time in genuine surprise. He swallowed nervously as he tried to think of something to return quickly. “Perhaps,” he started sheepishly, “Perhaps I did want you to return it to me…”  
  
 _Of course I need you back here, you’re practically my only source of income now._  
  
The Duke let out a sigh, as though he expected that answer, “It’s alright. I would have come back here regardless anyway.”  
  
Yixing swallowed again, wondering if he should be concerned that the Duke was so _un_ concerned that a courtesan had tried to manipulate a Duke.  
  
“So…” Yixing started, as a distraction, “You look very nice this evening. Are you going somewhere important, Your Grace?”  
  
The Duke’s official stance broke momentarily as he looked down at himself, “Ah, yes. Do you like it? I’m heading to the Palace to dine with the Emperor’s Youngest Sister tomorrow.”  
  
Yixing hummed in response, noting how casual the explanation had been, not gloating, just a simple fact, like ‘the sky is blue’. _It must be nice to be_ born _into such connections and power. So effortless and so easy_. He watched the Duke shrug and then raise an arm to say goodbye. “Are you not staying for the show?” Yixing asked, weaving a small thread of disappointment into his voice.  
  
“Can’t. Mother and I are leaving soon. It’s a long journey to the Palace.” The Duke returned his hand behind him and Yixing found himself wondering if the Duke had always been so _proper_.  
  
“Oh.” Yixing looked down at the returned bracelet and held it up once more. “I suppose I will just have to wear this as a reminder of you while you’re gone then,” he smiled flirtatiously, starting to wrap the chain around his wrist.  
  
The courtesan heard the soft sigh a second before he felt warm fingers take his wrist and he watched as the Duke closed the clasp with ease. “You should wear whatever _you_ want,” he whispered before brushing his fingers gently through Yixing’s hair. “Good luck tonight, Lady Lay,” he ended brightly with a wink before turning to leave again. “I’ll make sure to be here for your next show.”  
  
Yixing stared with poorly concealed confusion, thankful that the Duke had his back towards him before he disappeared completely. He looked back down at his wrist, fingers playing with the chain as his eyebrows furrowed together.  
  
 _You should wear whatever_ you _want._  
  
He continued to play with the small beads that hung from the bracelet, contemplating if he should substitute it for what he had already put together with his outfit. Taking a deep breath, he opened the clasp and replaced it into his drawer of accessories, “Stick with what you know, Lay,” he repeated to himself as he returned to his usual pre-show routine, picking up exactly where he had left off before he’d been interrupted; he didn’t know how many more shows Lady Pearl was going to allow him to continue and things had to go _perfectly_ from now on.  
  
…  
  
“So, any idea who the special guest at dinner is?” Yifan yawned, as he stepped off his litter to join his mother as they followed their guide to one of the guest wings in the Palace. He rubbed a finger into his temple, cringing at the tightness of his drawn taut atop his head under the head piece that identified him as a Duke.  
  
“The Lady’s husband will be joining us tonight,” his mother answered curtly, keeping her focus on the walls that extended endlessly in front of them.  
  
Yifan narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his mother, “He’s joined us for dinner before. Why is tonight so special that you’ve got me looking my best?”  
  
“We’d like you to meet his niece.”  
  
Yifan stopped in his steps for a beat and rolled his eyes as he threw his hands up in the air. “Of course you do,” he muttered before picking up his pace to join his mother again, “Is she at least pretty?”  
  
His mother sighed loudly, “The General’s Daughter is quite a refined young lady.”  
  
“Great. The _General_. So if all works well, my new father-in-law knows exactly how to kill me in my sleep as punishment for stealing his daughter,” Yifan joked with a grin as he nudged Minseok, who rolled his eyes subtly, out of view of the Duke’s Mother.  
  
The Duke’s Mother stopped abruptly and turned to frown at her son. “The General would do no such thing,” she snapped, “He is an honourable man who is aware of tonight’s intentions and will be joining us at dinner as well.” She straightened her posture once more as she continued forward, “Now, stop dragging your feet and keep up. We only have a little bit of time to freshen up from the journey before dinner.” She gestured to Minseok as they approached the rooms they always stayed in when visiting the Palace, “Make sure my son looks proper when he shows up for dinner. And make sure he isn’t late,” she ordered curtly before moving briskly towards her own room.  
  
*  
  
She was introduced to Yifan as Ah Mei, and the Duke’s mother description of her being “quite a refined young lady” was not inaccurate. It was obvious that she had been raised from a child, _groomed_ in fact, to be married off to someone like himself. Polite and soft-spoken with a pretty smile, Ah Mei moved with refined grace when the dinner party moved outside for a stroll in one of the many gardens within the Palace walls; polite smiles, muted footsteps, soft voice and flowing dress all indications of her proper upbringing..  
  
Somewhere between the not-yet-budding plum trees and learning that Ah Mei enjoyed calligraphy, Yifan realised that the only people who remained in his presence were Ah Mei and their respective attendants.  
  
“Oh,” he mumbled to himself, stopping abruptly in his step.  
  
“Is something the problem, Your Grace?” Ah Mei asked in her soft voice, stopping as well and giving Yifan a somewhat concerned expression.  
  
The Duke blinked a couple of times before he continued walking along the stone path. “Ah, nothing, simply admiring the flowers.”  
  
“Yes, they are beautiful,” Ah Mei returned as she followed closely behind Yifan, silence falling between them as they rounded a corner and over a bridge.  
  
“Ouch!”  
  
Yifan turned around abruptly to find Ah Mei some ways behind him in the bridge and knelt over with a hand around her wrist. Instead of waiting for Ah Mei’s attendant, he offered a hand himself, supporting the girl’s slight weight as she limped a little. “Here,” Yifan gestured, guiding her to take a seat on the bench in the nearest covered gazebo. Ah Mei flinched a little when Yifan crouched down in front of her and carefully took her ankle in hand. “Looks like it might be sprained,” he said as he returned her foot to the ground and stood up once more, turning to Minseok and ordering him to find the Physician.  
  
Minseok barely raised an eyebrow and excused himself with a bow, gesturing to Ah Mei’s own handmaiden to follow before giving Yifan a small knowing smile and turning to leave.  
  
The Duke waited until the attendants were out of earshot before he took a seat on the bench next to the General’s Daughter. “So, now that we’re alone, how do you honestly feel about this arrangement?”  
  
Ah Mei turned to face Yifan, “Feel?” she asked, her voice matching the perplexed look on her face, “This will be a beneficial union,” she answered flatly, prompting a silent sigh from Yifan. “And truth be told,” Ah Mei continued with a small smile, “I’m glad father has chosen someone such as yourself rather than someone old with boils all over his face.”  
  
Yifan stared at Ah Mei for a beat before he cracked a smile and a soft laugh escaped his lips. “Well, thank you for that I suppose,” he returned with a grin before clearing his throat to compose himself. “And what of love?” he asked quietly, crossing his arms in wait.  
  
Ah Mei only returned a look of even greater confusion. “I like you, Your Grace. I hope that this union is successful so that I may present myself a worthy wife,” she said quietly, tone serious that made her sound like her father.  
  
Yifan was almost thankful when Minseok returned with the doctor in tow, a handful of the palace’s carriers behind them. The Duke got to his feet to allow more room for the doctor, who confirmed that the injury was nothing major but that the Lady should get some rest. Yifan offered his hand for Ah Mei to take, helping her onto the wooden chair that the carriers had prepared.  
  
“It was a pleasure meeting you today, Miss. Rest well,” Yifan greeted properly with a parting nod, receiving a shy smile in return before the men picked up the lifting handles up over their shoulders and carried Ah Mei back to the rooms.  
  
“So?” Minseok piped up as he stood behind his master, the pair watching the small party leave.  
  
Yifan shrugged as he turned and headed back towards his quarters. “She’s a nice girl,” he answered simply as he tucked his hands into opposite sleeves.  
  
“But?”  
  
Yifan only smiled when he answered deflectively, “Let us retire for the night, Minseok.”  
  
Yes, Ah Mei was certainly a nice girl, but Yifan would have to meet her another time to judge her properly.


	7. Chapter 7

The soft knock surprised Yixing, making him spill a trail of tea on the tablecloth when he looked up to find Minseok standing at the door, his hand still held up from where he’d knocked on the wall.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt,” the Duke’s manservant apologized, bowing in greeting before stepping into the room.  
  
Yixing took a moment to realise that Minseok was alone. “How can I help you today?” he asked as he got up from his seat to close the door behind Minseok, taking a glance outside to double check that the Duke really wasn’t with Minseok.  
  
Minseok took a seat at the table opposite the spill and placed a familiarly wrapped package on the table. “I’m told you came by to return this,” Minseok said, prompting Yixing to recognize the cloth he’d used to wrap Lu Han’s clothes in.  
  
“It’s really too much. You don’t need to spoil him,” Yixing repeated as he took a step backwards to bow.  
  
A smile cracked across Minseok’s face as he motioned for Yixing to take a seat and join him at the table. “That may be true, but I don’t believe in returning gifts. Besides, I don’t know who else I would give these to now.”  
  
Yixing chewed on his lip and kept his head down in response, waiting a moment before he changed the topic, “Will the Duke be joining us?”  
  
Minseok removed the wrapped package from the table and set it aside on the chair beside him. “No. I am here alone today.” He shrugged when Yixing shot him a puzzled look, “Sometimes, I get a moment for myself when he has, as His Grace would put it, ‘annoying political meetings’.”  
  
Before Yixing could open for his mouth to ask about the ‘annoying political meetings’, the door to his room slid open and both he and Minseok turned to find a Lu Han stumbling in with a stack of clean clothes in his arms. “Sorry, I know I said that I would have them returned to you by this morning, but one of-“ The boy’s words were cut off when he realised that Yixing wasn’t in the room alone. In a rush, his eyes dropped to his feet and a clumsy apology tumbled from his lips as he started to back away. It was another second before his head snapped back up and a wide grin spread across his small face. “Baozi Gege!”  
  
The nickname made Yixing flinch and he chanced a glance at Minseok, expecting at least a grimace but the Duke’s manservant’s expression only brightened at Lu Han’s exuberance. Minseok got out of his seat and fell to one knee in front of Lu Han, taking the stack of clean clothes and then placing them on a nearby table before he tousled the mess atop Lu Han’s head.  
  
A curious frown formed on Yixing’s face as he watched the Duke’s servant tend to the almost fully healed bruise on Lu Han’s face, the pair conversing easily as if Lu Han had never offended Minseok during their first encounter. Yixing let out an inaudible sigh and sat back in his seat, watching with poorly concealed entertainment at the over exaggerated expressions on Lu Han’s face as he described the last couple of days.  
  
“What about Eyebrows Shushu? How come he’s not here?”  
  
Yixing found himself sitting up straight again at the mention of the Duke, and his eyes flickered towards Minseok with the continued worry that Lu Han was going to get in trouble one of these times for addressing royalty without the proper respect.  
  
“Does he live at the Palace with the Emperor?”  
  
Minseok chuckled and straightened Lu Han’s collar, “Nope, Eyebrows Shushu lives in his own place, on the other side of town.”  
  
Yixing’s elbow almost slipped off the table when Minseok used the nickname himself; Yixing had no idea how or when the stern looking manservant had accepted the strange nicknames that Lu Han had given him and the Duke.  
  
“When can we visit Eyebrows Shushu in his home?” Lu Han asked and Yixing nearly fell out of his chair in his haste to get up and hurry to the couple and holding his palm to the boy’s mouth.  
  
“Lu Han!” Yixing hissed as he pinched the back of Lu Han’s neck warningly, receiving a bewildered look in return. Yixing started to apologise on behalf of Luhan; no one asked to go to a Duke’s home, especially not commoners like themselves.  
  
“That’s quite alright,” Minseok replied, gesturing for Yixing to relax before standing up and giving Lu Han a last ruffle through his locks “Maybe later? I’m sure Eyebrows Shushu would be pleased to have you and Lay Jie visit one day,” he smiled at the beaming boy before turning to Yixing. “I will take my leave now. Thank you for having me, Miss Lay,” he greeted with a nod before starting towards the door.  
  
“Awww, leaving so soon?” Lu Han whined before Yixing put a stern hand on the boy’s shoulder.  
  
“I’ll walk you out,” the courtesan offered, drawing Lu Han back with a small warning squeeze as he stepped through his door after Minseok. He turned around to give a frowning Lu Han a small shake of his head before sliding his door closed and falling into step just behind Minseok until they stepped onto the sunny street. “Please tell His Grace that I look forward to his next visit,” Yixing said with a small bow, taking care to construct an expression of contained excitement as Minseok turned to head back towards the gated building on the other side of town. he manservant missed how Yixing’s smile faltered as the latter watched him round the corner out of sight.  
  
…  
  
Yifan was just wetting the tip of his brush pen when Minseok announced his presence soundlessly with a bow, motioning for his temporary substitute to return to his original duties, taking the scroll and holding it up for the Duke at his place beside the table.  
  
“So?” Yifan asked conversationally when the two were alone in the room, his focus on the countless words on the scroll Minseok held up for him.  
  
“The boy seems to be doing better,” Minseok reported, “The bruise on his cheek is almost all gone and he doesn’t seem to have a problem walking anymore.”  
  
Yifan hummed in reply as he pressed the tip of his brush against the paper, a black streak against a virgin spread of white. There was silence throughout the room save for the slight taps of the Duke’s brush against the ink plate in between strokes of perfect calligraphy.  
  
“Also,” Minseok broke the silence as he rolled up the scroll and picked up the next one, “The boy said he would like to come visit his ‘Eyebrows Shushu’ at his home. I replied with a maybe. I thought perhaps it might open up an opportunity for you to invite Lady Lay properly if you liked.”  
  
Yifan’s hand stopped moving, his brush pressing too long in the ink plate that the ends started to separate, making Minseok place the new scroll aside to pick up the Duke’s wrist for him. He took the brush from Yifan’s hand and, in hopes to save the integrity of it, pressed the tip repeatedly against the side of the ink plate to let the dark liquid bleed off the hairs and shaping the tip into a single point once more. He held out the brush back out for Yifan, who only narrowed his eyes at his servant.  
  
“Kim Minseok,” Yifan started with his best attempt at being stern, “When did I say I wanted to have Lady Lay over?”  
  
Minseok barely raised an eyebrow as he moved the brush back onto the tray and turned to pick up the scroll once more, positioning it as it had been before Yifan’s carelessness. His expression was straight as the needles that the Duke’s Mother used to embroider designs into her handkerchiefs but Yifan knew his servant long enough to anticipate a belittling speech (disguised in an apologetic tone) coming.  
  
“I’m _terribly_ sorry, Your Grace. It certainly wasn’t my place to assume that you liked the Lady Lay simple because you made a point of welcoming her into your home and offering a cup of your favourite coffee that you won’t even offer to some of your relatives. Or because you hand delivered that bracelet of hers after we found it forgotten on the floor. Or because you have me check on the boy that seems to have some strange connection to her. My _sincerest_ apologies, _Your Grace_.” Minseok finished by clearing his throat and turning his focus to making sure that he held his scroll perfectly in place.  
  
Yifan glared at Minseok a beat longer, wondering if he stared long enough, his servant would turn and look back with a sincere apology for speaking out of his place. Minseok only continued to hold his scroll dutifully as if nothing had just happened. “You know, Seok,” Yifan said as he picked up his brush again, “You can be a real ass sometimes. Do you know how annoying it is that you talk down to me in private but when we’re with company, you pretend to be all respectful?” he joked, knowing full well that he had been the one to be adamant that Minseok talk to him normally.  
  
Minseok’s eyebrows rose into his forehead in an expression of alarm and defence, “How can you say such a thing? I do my best to serve Your Grace with the highest of respect.”  
  
Yifan scowled at Minseok for effect but the corners of his lips turned up as he leaned forwards to continue. He would be lying if he said that it bothered him that his servant spoke to him on occasion without the proper honorifics, but it was nice to have someone treat him as an equal, even if the moments were scarce and just in private.  
  
If there was a single person he trusted in this life, it would be Minseok.  
  
Yifan pressed his brush to the page again, the smile on his face eliciting a quiet _tch_ from beside him, ‘ _likely combined with him rolling his eyes_ ,’ Yifan mused with amusement, mind starting to stray in wonder of how to take advantage of the opportunity Minseok had opened.  
  
...  
  
Yixing stared up at closed gates to the Duke’s home from the end of the almost empty street. the only lights coming from a few hanging lanterns in front of shops along the road.  
  
 _This is_ his _fault,_ Yixing thought bitterly, fingers clenching into a fist at his side as he tried to ignore the soreness across his lower back that spread to the back of his thigh.  
  
Yixing couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so helpless over his own life. He’d been Lady Pearl’s favourite for so long that’d he’d gotten too comfortable, forgetting how severe the punishment could be for failing to bring in expected sales. _‘I thought you were better than this, but I was clearly wrong._ ’  
  
When Yixing had finally escaped the unforgiving lashes and the disappointed comments on his lack of pulling in the proper financial returns, he had hid himself in his room, trying desperately to make peace with the idea that he won’t be performing on stage in a long time. Bitter tears had stung his eyes; his performances had meant everything to him, they were what set him apart from the others, something to make him desirable.  
  
Now, Yixing had been demoted to just a plaything again.  
  
In an angry haste, he’d dove towards his mirror, ripping the page of 正’s from its home and tearing it into unrecognizable pieces, frustration only growing as he had watched them flutter down slowly to his feet. Red clouding his vision, he’d grabbed the nearest item on the table (an expensive pearl necklace that one of his previous clients had gifted him) and had thrown it against the wall, the beads snapping off their chain with a semi-satisfying snap before raining onto the floor. The next item his fingers had picked up was the hair stick that the Duke had purchased for him. His fingers had clenched until the knuckles were white, eyes narrowing into slits before he had stormed out of his room, barely even pausing as he’d grabbed a bottle of rice wine on his way out.  
  
Yixing clenched his jaw and the grip around the hair accessory tightened until his fingernails were digging into his palm as he started towards the gate, hardly a bother in the world that his hair was probably unpresentable and the bottom of his dress was dirtied from dragging over the dirt road. As he neared the guards, he took a long gulp from the bottle in his other hand, keeping narrowed eyes on the guards. He wiped the splash of the bottle from his lips and stalked up to the one on the right, daring him to make a comment on Yixing’s disheveled appearance; the courtesan had little doubt that his make-up was everywhere but where it should be but he didn’t _care_. He eyed the guard on the right before snapping his head to the left and sauntering over to the other, recognizing him from the day he’d come to return Lu Han’s clothes. He tilted his head slightly to the side, eyebrows turning up into his forehead as he pouted, “You remember me, right? Let me in to see the Duke?”  
  
There was a moment of hesitation from the left guard and Yixing batted his eyes pleadingly before the man finally succumbed, turning to his partner with instructions to keep watch while he went to find Minseok. Yixing watched him disappear behind the doors before he turned briefly towards the remaining guard and flashed a quick smile before he stumbled a little and sat down on the top step of the stairs that led to the gate. Rolling his eyes, Yixing took another couple of gulps of the burning liquid, throwing back his head and ignoring the soft and disapproving _tch_ from behind him. Yixing scowled and made no move to appease his audience; he was in no mood to keep up his appearances and he looked down to glower at the hair stick once more.  
  
 _Your damn fault._  
  
…  
  
Yifan smiled politely when Ah Mei looked up from her table as her own servant changed out the sheet in front of her. A slight pink coloured her cheeks prettily and she looked down to focus too hard on dipping her calligraphy brush in her ink before pressing the tip onto the page to draw out perfect calligraphy for ‘luck’.  
  
The Duke was hardly surprised at Ah Mei’s competency in writing literacy; a General’s daughter would never be allowed to be so unlearned like the town’s commoners that lived on scraps in the streets. Yifan rather enjoyed watching her paint out flawless characters, taken by the way she so gracefully pulled back her sleeve from the page, moving her writing arm with delicate push and pulls to trace out practiced lettering.  
  
Yifan’s attention was drawn from Ah Mei when there was a shuffling from somewhere behind him. He turned to find someone whispering to Minseok, who promptly bowed deeply before dismissing himself to attend to whatever matter needed his attention.  
  
It was another short while before Minseok returned with a strange look on his face as he re-entered, bowing to greet Ah Mei quickly before hurrying to whisper in Yifan’s ears, “It’s Lady Lay. She would like to speak with you.” There was a hesitant pause where Minseok turned to glance quickly at the General’s Daughter, “It looks like it might be important. She’s in the West Wing guest room waiting.” Yifan’s servant took a step back to his position and the Duke looked towards Ah Mei who had already raised her eyebrows with concern in his expression. Yifan’s jaw clenched tightly in contemplation; he hated to have his schedules interrupted but Minseok’s tone had been serious and his own curiosity about what possible urgent matter would bring Yixing to his home again was starting to get the better of him.  
  
Yifan swallowed hard before he cleared his throat and got to his feet. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Ah Mei, but we must continue this another day. I have some urgent matters to attend to, but I will have Minseok personally escort you back home.” Guilt flit across his mind as he watched Ah Mei’ expression fall but he reasoned with himself that this was not too far off from his original plan to have Ah Mei home before the sun set. He swallowed hard once before he brought his hands to hold behind his back, nodding in respect before leaving and heading towards the guest room.  
  
The doors were opened to the courtesan sitting at the table with his back towards the entrance. Eyebrows furrowed, Yifan waved away his escort as he stepped through the door. ‘It looks like it might be important’ didn’t quite give justice to the situation. Lay’s hair was completely unkempt, even from the back, and Yifan frowned at the ring of dirt at the hem of the dress.  
  
But it was the fact that Lay hadn’t instantly gotten to his feet to greet the Duke that bothered Yifan. Lay had always been especially careful to properly address the Duke, getting flustered with Lu Han didn’t, and the lack of immediate attention made Yifan uneasy. Instead of speaking up, Yifan took a moment to close the doors behind him before he joined Lay at the table in the chair to the courtesan’s right.  
  
Lay looked up briefly and Yifan had to swallow an alarmed gasp; black rings around the frantic eyes, smudge lines of red across his lips, a stench of alcohol and stray hairs falling in front of his face as he chewed on his nails nervously, an image completely opposite to the perfection Yifan was already so used to. Lay didn’t only _look_ terrible, but his actions were putting off Yifan as well. First the lack of greeting, and now, not a single word passing through his lips, nothing to compliment the Duke, no smiles, _nothing_.  
  
Yifan fought desperately against his instinct to say something, anything, just to break this silence. _Why was Lay here? Why does he look like hell?_  
  
“I’m supposed to say something,” Lay finally whispered after a long time, the shadow of the candlestick in the middle of the table shifting across the surface.  
  
Yifan continued to let the silence hang.  
  
“I don’t know what to say.” Lay continued to chew on his fingernails nervously.  
  
“How about you start with why you’re here?” Yifan offered quietly, removing the nearly emptied bottle in front of Lay and setting it aside. His eye caught Lay’s other hand clenched around a familiar object.  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“Okay, well what do you want?”  
  
Lay’s eyebrows furrowed together as he chewed on his bottom lip. “I… I want… to be mad at you?” he whispered barely audibly as he switched from chewing on his nails to shrinking his hands in his sleeves and fidgeting with the cloth.  
  
Yifan raised an eyebrow in surprise but held his tongue, waiting for Lay to continue.  
  
“I mean, when I came here tonight, I _was_ mad at you. Just swooping in and practically telling everyone and everything that I’m off limits. Do you know how hard that has been for me to find clients ever since?”  
  
The Duke had to blink several times in alarm at the words, the lack of proper suffixes, the meaning of the words that seemed to spill out of Lay of their own accord. “Pardon?” was the only word he managed to get out as he tried not to stare. Lay didn’t seem to notice Yifan’s remark though, swallowing as he kept his eyes squarely on the tea set in the center of the table. The sun was setting outside and Yifan watched it cast shadows across one side of Lay’s face. Following the silhouette of a tree branch outside the window, the Duke’s attention was drawn to how the fingers on Lay’s right hand had started to pick at the opposite wrist under the sleeve. Instinctively, Yifan reached out and placed a comforting hand over Lay’s.  
  
The simple action seemed to draw Lay from his daze, his head snapping up to look at Yifan before his eyes flickered back towards their hands. He immediately pulled his hands back to himself as he scrambled to stand, averting his eyes, “I-I’m sorry, Your Grace. I shouldn’t have interrupted your evening.” He bowed hastily before taking a step backwards in a move to turn and leave through the rooms’ doors.  
  
Yifan’s eyebrows furrowed together with concern and his hand snapped out quickly to grab Lay around the wrist before he slipped too far, jerking the courtesan back around. He watched curiously as Lay looked down at the Duke’s hand with wide eyes, frantically making sure the sleeve was down as he tried to pull his arm back to himself.  
  
“I-I must really be leaving, Your Grace,” Lay whispered, his voice too squeaky to escape Yifan’s suspicion and his fingers tightened slightly before his free hand reached out to pull back the sleeve, drawing a slight yelp from Lay.  
  
Pink stripes littered the length of Lay’s forearm, some of them paling and healing while others raised out of the skin, dark red of recent scabs, a couple closest to the wrist peeling back from Lay’s nerves earlier. “What’s this?” Yifan finally managed to get out, barely above a whisper as his hand slacked in realisation that this was the reason Lay always doused the flames.  
  
Lay narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm to himself roughly, pulling the sleeve down, “It’s nothing,” he answered in a rush before he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. Yifan swallowed uncomfortably in his seat as Lay opened his eyes again, a familiar twinkle coupled with an even more familiar smile that was signature Lay, at least before tonight. “It’s nothing, Your Grace,” Lay repeated, with practiced calm this time, staring softly into Yifan’s eyes as he stepped back towards the table, dancing his fingers over Yifan’s shoulder and then along his neck, stopping to rub at the lobe. He took another step before he was slipping onto the Duke’s lap, his hand falling to play with Yifan’s collar for a moment, never breaking eye contact until he leaned in to press his lips against the Duke’s.  
  
Yifan swallowed as Lay drew away with a smile, eyes half lidded as he continued to play with the bright folds of cloth at Yifan’s neck. This was the Lay Yifan was familiar with, confident with his actions and giving up pretty smiles but the Duke couldn’t ignore the last few minutes. He could tell that Lay had absolutely no intention of talking about what Yifan had just uncovered and an unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach; _helplessness?_ Instead, he brushed Lay’s messy hair aside and traced his thumb across Lay’s cheek, feeling his eyebrows stitch together. “I… don’t know what to say, Lay,” he whispered.  
  
Something that might be desperation flashes across Lay’s features, perhaps a _please_ that couldn’t be vocalized that stings Yifan’s chest.  
  
He had no idea how to erase the trouble from Lay’s eyes.  
  
Yifan swallowed again as he lowered his hand to tuck under Lay’s chin and lifted it slightly as he drew Lay in, kissing him lightly until he felt the courtesan’s warmth press against him with hunger, fingers reached behind his neck as he felt himself being pulled closer.  
  
 _I don’t know what to say, Lay, but let me be here for you tonight._  
  
…  
  
Yixing felt clumsy as his fingers close tightly around the Duke’s robes and it wasn’t until he found himself hovering over the Duke, hands planted on the ground on either side of the Duke’s head, that he realised he was being completely selfish and controlling; he was out of Lay’s character and _this was the Duke, dammit!_ In a hurry, he pushed himself off the Duke and slid to the side, palms pressed to his temples as he stared hard at the ground, a million lines filling his head, none of which he could use to explain himself. “I…?”  
  
“Is something wrong?”  
  
Yixing’s head snapped up at the soft voice, confused as a pair of concern-filled eyes stared back at him.  
  
 _He’s not concerned about_ you _, you idiot. He’s just wondering why you haven’t let him fuck you yet._  
  
Yixing’s head swam with rice wine residue and he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to focus on being Lay again. The sudden warmth on his cheek made his eyes fly open and he almost jumped when he noticed how close the Duke had moved towards him, face inches away from his own as he rubbed circles lightly over the skin. “It’s okay,” the Duke whispered in a soothing voice as Yixing moved into the calming hand before he could think about it. The Duke leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the cheek quickly before his warm breath blew over Yixing’s ear, “Just do what you _want_ , be _selfish,_ Lay.”  
  
When the Duke pulled away again, Yixing found himself clenching his fingers into his dress, not sure how to continue as he simply stared dumbly back at the Duke. Selfish? Do what he wanted? How was he supposed to be selfish if it had been so long since he knew what he wanted for himself besides ‘ _out’_? He watched the Duke blink slowly at him once before he pressed his lips against Yixing’s again, moving slowing, inviting Yixing to take control again.  
  
Yixing hesitated for a moment as his hand started to hurt from clenching so tightly.  
  
Yes.  
  
Maybe just for tonight, _just tonight_ , he could be just a little _selfish_ with the Duke.  
  
“Yixing,” he murmured when they broke apart, his hot breath reflecting back at him, “My real name is Yixing.”


	8. Chapter 8

Yixing’s eyes snapped open, a moment of panic washing over him as he struggled to recognize his surroundings: ornate table legs to his right with candles casting shadows across the marble floor he was lying on, unrecognizable silk clothing in a pile above his head, and an unfamiliar ceiling to stare at blankly. A headache pressed at him temples as he finally remembered where he was. He swallowed hard as he turned to look left, the image of the Duke breathing in and out evenly making his own breath catch in his throat. Swallowing hard, Yixing carefully removed the arm that sprawled across his chest, placing it down lightly at the Duke’s side.  
  
The candle on the table flickered as Yixing pulled himself into an upright position, massaging the hangover in his temples as his knees folded into his chest. He scanned the room looking for his misplaced garments before he started to get to his feet, a brief stirring from the sleeping figure making him freeze in place for a moment before continuing to the East corner where his dirtied dress lay. He tied the belt around the waist haphazardly before he turned to look down at the Duke, whose eyebrows had stitched together. _I wonder what a Duke dreams about?_  
  
Yixing frowned at the thought, _What are you talking about Yixing? Who cares what Dukes dream about?_ He shook his head and started towards the door as quietly as he could, tripping and nearly falling a few meters from the door. He looked down to find one of the multiple layers that the Dukes always wore tangled between his feet. Yixing stared at the garment in contemplation; he should really be heading back (maybe if he was lucky, Lady Pearl hadn’t noticed his disappearance) but maybe he should help tidy up in this room before he left. Deciding that another couple minutes wouldn’t make a difference anyway, he leaned over to pick up the silk along with the other expensive layers that littered the floor.  
  
The courtesan placed the layers neatly over the back of the chair he’d been sitting in earlier, turning to glance at the Duke a last time only to find the latter shivering from the night chill that had replaced the missing body warmth. Yixing sighed as he pulled the outermost jacket from the pile and walked over to drape it over the sleeping man before he went back to the table to blow out the candles.  
  
As he finally drew the doors closed, Yixing let his hand linger for a moment of the handle, taking a deep breath before stepping back a couple paces and bowing at the door. “Thank you for your generosity tonight, You Grace,” he whispered barely audibly, staying bent at the waist for another moment before straightening up. As he turned to leave, he barely managed to conceal the surprised gasp when he found Minseok standing in his path with a strange expression on his face as he carried a lantern in his left hand.  
  
Caught a little off-guard, Yixing managed to bow to Minseok too before pulling the corners of his mouth into a smile he hoped didn’t give away how uneasy he felt inside. “I’ll have Lu Han come over tomorrow to collect my payment,” he said easily before taking his leave, trying to ignore how Minseok’s steady gaze never left him as he passed him.  
  
…  
  
Yifan opened his eyes to the image of his manservant staring down at him with a disapproving look.  
  
“A Duke doesn’t sleep on the floor,” Minseok announced as he held up a clean set of robes for Yifan.  
  
The fact that Minseok was hovering over him reminded Yifan briefly of the previous night with Lay, no, _Yixing_ , and an unconscious smile made its way across his face.  
  
Minseok scowled and rolled his eyes, “Stop grinning like an idiot and get dressed. I promised Ah Mei that she would have an audience with you today because you had to leave early yesterday.”  
  
Yifan raised an eyebrow briefly at the news before his attention was caught on the robes he didn’t remember burrowing under last night, “Is she here already?” he asked distractedly as he pulled the cloth off himself and got to his feet.  
  
Minseok kissed his teeth as he motioned for Yifan to turn around so he could guide the Duke’s arms through the sleeves. “Your mother returns tonight from her father’s home, or have you forgotten that somewhere between _Lady Lay_ showing up dishevelled and me finding you sleeping on the ground?”  
  
Yifan’s eyebrows furrowed together as he turned around again; he was plenty used to Minseok’s occasional mocking but something was off about it this morning. “Pardon?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light in case Minseok had really meant no harm.  
  
Minseok only continued about in his usual manner, fixing the Duke’s collar, “Miss Ah Mei is waiting in the sitting room with a variety of snacks for company, though I’m sure she’s enjoy yours much more.” He finished tighten the belt and looked up at Yifan’s hair with a frown followed by a long sigh before pulling Yifan into a chair for easier access to the mess on top of his head.  
  
“Think we’ll be done before dinner?” Yifan wondered out loud as he blew a stray piece of hair from his face, hardly expecting an actual answer. “I think Lay’s performing tonight.” The brush in his hair stopped moving and Yifan had to lean his head backwards to stare up at his manservant with a concerned raised eyebrow. “Something the matter with you today, Seok?”  
  
Minseok took but a second before he smacked Yifan lightly and forced his head upright again so he could continue trying to get it presentable. “Perhaps Miss Ah Mei could stay until your mother comes back and the three of you could enjoy dinner together.”  
  
“Then maybe dinner will be quick and I can still catch some time with Lay,” Yifan wondered out loud again, only to have Minseok kiss his teeth with a _tch_ behind him. He reached up to still Minseok’s hand before he spun in his chair to address his servant properly with a curious glare. “There _is_ something with you, Minseok. And by the way you’re acting, it’s Lay, isn’t it?”  
  
Minseok only stared back at Yifan, a perplexed expression all over his face.  
  
“Spit it out then,” Yifan pressed impatiently.  
  
“Your _language_ , My Lord.”  
  
Yifan scowled, his gaze hardening at how Minseok was still trying to avoid answering. “ _Minseok,”_ he warned.  
  
It was a long moment of Minseok averting his gaze before he finally spoke up. “Lady Lay is in fact not a _lady_ ,” he muttered hesitantly, “But you already know that.”  
  
Yifan blinked a couple times as he stood up to stare back at his manservant, bored, “I sense there is something else you want to say.”  
  
Minseok took a deep breath before speaking again, his confidence starting to creep back into his voice, “You’re a _duke_ , My Lord. Perhaps it-”  
  
A muscle clenched in Yifan’s jaw as his eyebrows stitched together, “Exactly. I’m a duke, Minseok. I can spend my time with whomever I’d like. Unless you’re suggesting that I need _your_ approval?”  
  
Minseok swallowed visibly before moving on to chew his lower lip for a moment before finally breaking eye contact and taking a step back and dipping his head in concession. “Of course not, My Lord.”  
  
Yifan sucked in a deep breath as he fixed his sleeves, heading out of the room towards the sitting room, his servant following a respectable distance behind.  
  
…  
  
Yixing was sulking about his lack of clients on the steps that lead up to The Star when he saw Minseok approach, an obvious conflicted look on his face. The courtesan stood up from his place in the middle of the stairs immediately, straightening his dress before he bowed quickly in greeting.  
  
“I have an invitation for you,” Minseok announced curtly, stopping at the base of the stairs. Yixing only stared blankly in response, a clear prompt for Minseok to elaborate. “The Duke is hosting a gathering in a few days and he’d like for you to join him.”  
  
Yixing raised an almost interested eyebrow, trying to ignore how he had stood up straighter at the mention of _The Duke_. He hesitated briefly, wanting to ask for more details, only to look down at his sleeves. “You’ll have to talk to Lady Pearl about that,” he whispered in feigned disappointment that he couldn’t immediately say yes to the invitation. Instead, he was hoping that Lady Pearl would decline the offer, and he wouldn’t have to find a way to properly face the Duke. _That night_ had been a mistake. What had he been thinking, being so reckless, and now the Duke knew his _name_.  
  
“Talk to me about what?”  
  
Yixing spun around at Lady Pearl’s voice behind him before glancing back at Minseok and prompting the latter to start talking.  
  
“The Duke requests Miss Lay’s presence in three moon’s time at his riverside party. His Grace would like for Lay to put on a performance for his guests, and he’s aware that Lay no longer does that for The Star, but he was hoping this could be an exception.”  
  
Yixing wanted to scoff at the speech. ‘Hope’? This was the Duke. Duke’s didn’t _hope_ for exceptions. Yixing’s head turned towards Lady Pearl again, watching her expression as he tried to control his excitement. He was sure she was weighing the potential income she would make versus punishing Lay for doing so poorly lately. Yixing sincerely hoped that her business instincts would triumph her petty need to punish him. Lay’s last performance had been before Lady Pearl had stripped him of his title and he felt regret at never doing a last dance properly.  
  
Yixing swallowed nervously and chewed on his bottom lip as he played with his sleeve again. There was a rustling from the bottom of the steps and Yixing could have sworn Lady’s Pearl’s eyes took on a greedy sparkle at the sight of the money Minseok had procured from within his robes. The courtesan almost snorted before he remembered that he was in public; of course, it was _money_ that was always the easy answer to any doubt, _no matter the situation._  
  
“The other half will be paid at the engagement.”  
  
Yixing watched as Lady Pearl put on a wide smile for her client, reaching out for the payment, “Of course. It would be an honour to have our Lay perform for His Grace.” She flashed Minseok another smile before heading back up the steps, pausing but a second to shoot Yixing a derisive look, “Don’t screw this up and I might just consider letting you perform again.”  
  
Yixing nodded obediently and watched her disappear through the open doors again before turning to Minseok again. He opened his mouth, about to express his thanks for the opportunity only to close it at the manservant’s darkened expression. His brow furrowed in confusion as he noticed Minseok’s jaw clench.  
  
“I’d like to remind you that he is a duke, that he is _royalty,_ that he has _responsibilities_ as one,” the servant said simply before nodding slightly and leaving.  
  
Yixing stared after Minseok’s parting figure with a raised eyebrow. Of course he knew the Duke was royalty. He dismissed the strange statement as an impossible smile crept onto his face. He climbed the rest of the steps to the entrance, a slight skip in his step as he started to sift through the items in his closet in his head. The Duke said he liked the colour green, right?


	9. Chapter 9

“Ouch! You’re gripping too tight Yixing Gege!”  
  
Yixing nearly jumped in alarm as Lu Han’s voice at his side, letting go of the boy’s hand immediately and shooting him an apologetic smile before going back to stare at the entrance of the Duke’s home. The duo had stopped walking as soon as they had rounded the corner and were not standing at the end of the street, Yixing staring nervously at the guarded double doors.  
  
Lu Han shared none of the courtesan’s anxiety, fiddling with Yixing’s weekend belongings as he stared up at Yixing with a pout, “Why are we just standing here, Xingxing Ge?” he whined, “I want to see Eyebrows Shushu!”  
  
Yixing’s teeth ground together as he glanced quickly at the guards again before he pulled Lu Han into an alley behind a restaurant. A frown creased into his features as he knelt and tried to tidy the permanent mess atop Lu Han’s head, “It’s not Eyebrows Shushu! Please please please remember that for the next couple of days! And you’re to speak only if spoken to, okay? Don’t just go spewing nonsense all the time.” He opened his mouth to continue but Lu Han sighed and frowned, putting up a finger to silence a surprised Yixing.  
  
“I promise to stay out of trouble, okay?”  
  
Yixing raised an eyebrow involuntarily, a little taken aback by the reassuring tone in the younger’s voice, before he shook his head with a grin; how was it that someone half his age was acting more mature than him? He stood up once more and held out his hand for Lu Han to take, taking a deep breath before he stepped out onto the street again as he reminded himself that there really wasn’t anything to be nervous about, the Duke was just another client and Lay had done house calls like this tens of times before.  
  
“Besides, he didn’t mind when I called him that when we were eating _bao_ that day,” Lu Han piped up again with another pout as he repositioned the package he carried over his shoulder and blew at a length of hair that Yixing had _just_ straightened out.  
  
Yixing only rolled his eyes as he focused on keeping a smile on his face as they neared the double doors. As one of the servants lead them towards the familiar guest room where he had lost his control, an uncomfortable feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. He swallowed hard as he felt his muscles tense, a warning tug from Lu Han reminding him to loosen his grip. Yixing let go of the small hand completely and opted instead on focussing on straightening the invisible creases in his dress as he wondered to himself if this was the correct shade of green that the Duke had pointed out in the textile store.  
  
…  
  
Yifan yawned as he watched the dismissed merchant leave the room, having finally completed discssions of the future of the latter’s business in town. He raised his arms in a stretch as he stepped backwards and fell into his chair, scowling when a knock sounded and a messenger came in. _There really is just no break, is there?_  
  
“Your Grace, Lady Lay has arrived at the gates. Where would you like her settled?”  
  
Yifan sat up properly in his chair, contemplating the question briefly before instructing that his guest be put up in the guest room. He waited a moment before getting to his feet and starting towards the door, hesitating when he reached it and turning around to address Minseok, who had been uncharacteristically silent ever since he had confronted his master about Lay a few days ago. “You coming then?” Yifan asked, turning around with an arched eyebrow.  
  
Minseok wore a tight look about him (or a tighter look than he’d been wearing all morning) be he stepped forward in an indication of compliance, head ducked and hands held respectfully in front of him.  
  
Yifan sighed as he turned to leave once more, teeth clenched in an effort to forget last night’s discussion with his mom about future plans with Ah Mei as well as the disapproving tone of Minseok’s voice several mornings ago when he had been reminded of his position as a duke.  
  
He was glad for the distraction when his path crossed with that of Yixing and Lu Han, a smile gracing his features as his shoulders immediately relaxed at their presence. His guests had yet to notice his arrival and Yifan took a moment to observe the way Yixing was staring at his dress nervously, fingers clenching the flowing material at his side. The messenger that had led them to their room made a couple of gestures and Lay nodded a couple of times before waving the messenger away. Yifan watched curiously as the courtesan simply stared at the room without making a move to go in.  
  
Finally deciding to make his presence known, Yifan stepped forward almost noiselessly, “I’m glad you could make it.” Yifan barely managed to hide his smile when Yixing jumped in surprise before bowing with little more than a whispered ‘thank you for having me’ as he stared at his feet.  
  
Eye contact with the courtesan seemed impossible at the moment and Yifan turned his attention to the boy, grinning when he looked up at the Duke with a winning smile. Lu Han opened his mouth to say something, a greeting of ‘Eyebrows Shushu’ no doubt, but almost immediately shut it, chewing on his lower lip as if to keep himself from speaking as he averted his eyes as well. Yifan almost frowned at the unexpected reaction until he watched the boy’s face light up again.  
  
“Baozi Gege!” The boyish squeal was almost welcoming in the silence that it had followed, and Yifan found himself letting go of a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. He didn’t bother hiding his smile as he watched Lu Han almost lunge at his manservant who had to kneel to greet the uncontrollable excitement. Minseok took the package that the boy had been carrying over his own shoulder, wearing a smile that made Yifan wonder when the last time was that he’d seen a smile _that_ wide on his servant’s face.  
  
“Come _on_!” Lu Han exclaimed as Minseok stood up fully once more, taking the older’s hand and starting to drag him towards whatever it was that had caught the child’s attention in the first place.  
  
Minseok pulled back against the boy’s insistence, head nudging towards the Duke with an expression that only Yifan would know was meant to be mocking. “What about _Eyebrows Shu Shu_?”  
  
Yifan scowled at the derisive glint in his servant’s eye, taking out his fan and whacking Minseok in the shoulder with it, receiving only a grin in return, the first semblance of their relationship returning to normal since the latter had begun defaulting to the silent treatment.  
  
Lu Han only scrunched his nose before the corners of his lips started to rise, turning to stick his tongue out at the courtesan, who sighed visibly as he shook his head, stark white knuckles on both hands on either side of him finally loosening a little.  
  
“ _Eyebrows Shu Shu_ ,” the Duke started before shooting a joking glare in Minseok’s direction before looking down at Lu Han again, “would like to have a chat with Lay Jiejie. Can you and Baozi Gege go put away her things? And then go see what snacks you can steal from the kitchen,” he added as an afterthought with a wink.  
  
Lu Han’s eyes, as Yifan had expected, lit up brightly at the mention of _food_ and the boy started pulling at Minseok’s hand again, his small fingers wrapped tightly around only three of his guardian’s. “Do you guys make green bean cakes here?” he asked with excitement, hardly waiting for an answer before he starts on a list of a hundred other snacks that Yifan had never heard before; the Duke had little doubt that Lu Han had opted to reverse the order of his suggestion.  
  
Yifan turned his focus back to Yixing, smiling to himself as he watching Yixing’s jaw clench in between yelling careful warnings about proper etiquette after the boy. Yifan took a few steps forward until he was at Yixing’s side, watching Minseok struggle to accommodate the height different with a grin that only faltered slightly when Minseok turned around to give Yifan a warning glance, eyes flickering to Yixing a last time as he reminded the Duke to be careful wordlessly before he let himself be pulled away by Luhan, “Okay, okay! I’m coming, slow down there.”  
  
Yifan let himself watch Yixing for a moment more before he cleared his throat again, regretting it a little when the latter turned around abruptly, smile dropping as he took several steps back, head ducked in respect again. “Sorry about him. He, uhm, he’s easily excitable,” Yixing explained quietly, fingers tugging nervously at his sleeves again.”  
  
Yifan wanted to say that he’d already observed that particular trait in the boy from their encounter in town but instead, focused his attention on the fact that Yixing was desperately trying to avoid Yifan’s eye. “This guest room should be sufficient for the duration of your stay, no one has stayed in it since…” the end of the sentence trailed off as the Duke noticed that Yixing had started to shift a little, just a little, but it was enough to tell Yifan that he wasn’t comfortable, “… you were last here…”  
  
Yixing swallowed visibly, keeping his back to the doors, “Mmm,” he managed, eyes fixated on his knuckles that Yifan had noticed had turned bone-white.  
  
“Or would you rather a different room?” Yifan suggested uneasily; he was not used to having to pose such questions.  
  
There was a slight twitch of Yixing’s eyebrow but the courtesan shook his head slowly, “N-no. It’s, it’s fine.”  
  
Yifan’s own eyebrows furrowed together as he noted that this was probably this first time he’s even seen Lay so out of sorts. He glanced behind Yixing at the doors again and took a guess at what was bothering the courtesan, holding his arm out for the other to take, “Would you care to join me for a walk,” he started, pausing purposely to emphasize his next word, “ _Lay_?”  
  
Yixing looked up, caught off guard and eyes wide in surprise before his features settled into a practiced calm once more, corners of his lips curling upwards as he took Yifan’s elbow. “That sounds like a wonderful suggestion, _Your Grace._ ”  
  
“I’d like to show you something,” Yifan explained, “But it’s a little far. Will you be okay?”  
  
The courtesan only smiled in return, clearly an indication for the Duke to lead the way.  
  
…  
  
Yixing took the hand that the Duke offered as they trekked up a slight hill in the forest, his other hand lifting his dress in a futile attempt to keep it clear of the dirty forest floor. He resisted the urge to ask ‘Are we there yet?’ or ‘Where are we going?’ and instead, sucked in his bottom lip at the blister he could feel forming on the bottom of his left foot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d travelled so far on such uneven ground and he breathed a soft sigh of relief when they finally exited the thickest of the trees onto a clear path and he followed the Duke across a wooden bridge over a small stream.  
  
“Just a little more, okay Lay?” the Duke finally voiced, breaking the silence that they’d travelled in since they’d left the Duke’s home.  
  
Yixing nodded in reply, further calmed by the ‘Lay’ that the Duke had used. It was a comfort that the Duke was falling back on what they already knew. This was easy, being Lay was easy and he wasn’t sure how he wouldn’t acted if the Duke had called him Yixing instead; he wasn’t even sure that it meant to just be _Yixing_.  
  
The pair finally arrived at a set of double doors with worn brick walls on either side of the ornate entrance. Yixing watched as the Duke rummaged through his sleeves for a moment to procure a slightly tarnished silver key, showing it to show Yixing briefly before he reached out towards the padlock across the doors’ handles that the courtesan hadn’t noticed before. The lock opened with a slight click and while it slid off the handles easily, the doors proved more of an effort for the Duke before they deigned to creak open slowly.  
  
Yixing followed after the Duke onto a pebbled path that led up to an unexpectedly well maintained place: tall pillars with immaculately taken care of red paint, walkway clear of dust and dirt, despite its location in the woods. Yixing’s forehead crinkled together as he took in his surroundings, a desperate want to ask where they are, slightly concerned about the purpose of this quaint building.  
  
“So?” the Duke finally piped up, “What do you think?”  
  
Yixing couldn’t help the slightly arched eyebrow that seemed to have a mind of its own, “I…?”  
  
“I can’t really remember what my dad said about its history, I just come here to unwind sometimes. I haven’t used it too much except to gaze at the flowers. Come, let me show the garden here.”  
  
Yixing was still busy taking in the room that the pair had stepped through the front door into when he felt fingers wrap around his own, their warmth startling him into movement, following slightly behind as the Duke urged them forwards gently, turning around every so often to smile at Yixing. The third time the Duke turned, eyes meeting Yixing’s own, the courtesan swallowed uneasily and finally pulled his hand away, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of his stomach that made his eyebrows furrow together.  
  
Thankfully, the Duke hardly seemed to notice, reaching up to push at a last set of doors that opened to a small pond with several floating lotuses, their flowers not yet in full bloom. Yixing chanced a glance towards the Duke again, willing the previous unsettling feeling he’d felt a moment ago to the back of his mind as he tried to understand the serene look upon the Duke’s face; vibrant chrysanthemum and peony coloured the walkways from building to building in the Duke’s home, an obvious superior choice for flower gazing over these pale lotuses that called the calm surface of the water home.  
  
The Duke stopped a couple feet from where the path ended with a low fence of stacked stones that led to the pond, breathing out softly as he settled onto the ground, crossing his legs under him, pulling the extra fabric from his robes to fall over his lap. Yixing lifted his sleeved hand to cover up the frown that had formed at the idea that a duke should sit on a dirty walkway with his legs crossed. _‘How improper,’_ he thought to himself before the Duke looked up at him with an expectant expression, gesturing to the space beside him. Yixing hesitated a moment for the sake of his dress but deigned to fold his legs under him to one side, leaning slightly towards the Duke until his cheek barely rested against the Duke’s shoulder, a surprisingly natural motion.  
  
The pair sat in silence for a while, Yixing anxious for something to happen, _anything_ , because simply sitting in silence on the stone walkway with the Duke was too unfamiliar and he didn’t know how to act next. Should he ask the Duke about the reason for this visit? Should he try a poetic comment about the calm this quiet pond brought his soul? _What exactly was the Duke thinking bringing Lay here?_  
  
The Duke finally shifted in his spot, prompting Yixing to pull his head away and look at him.  
  
“Do you know what’s so special about the lotus flower?”  
  
Yixing almost broke character, an urge to roll his eyes at the obvious answer, the lotus signature, the blossoming of beautiful flowers through the mud, an analogy that had long started to bore Yixing, especially when he had so frequently been compared to them.  
  
“Absolutely nothing,” the Duke answered himself flatly with a laugh.  
  
Yixing took a moment to process the Duke’s words before the corners of his lips lifted of their own accord: the Duke was so _weird_ , how could he say there was nothing special about the renowned lotus flower?  
  
“The lotus is just like every other flower, just trying to grow. Just like the plum trees that blossom just as winter dies, while the air remains brisk and the ground still dusted in white.”  
  
Yixing could only stare blankly back at the Duke at the explanation before he realised that the Duke was waiting for a response. The courtesan cleared his throat softly before his mouth opened, the first thing coming to mind tumbling over his lips, “Their roots are also good for cooking with.”  
  
There was a moment of silence between Yixing and the Duke as the former ground his teeth together as he reminded himself to never turn away from royalty, no matter how much he regretted the embarrassing comment about _cooking_.  
  
The Duke finally chuckled lightly as he pulled himself to his feet and then extending his hand to Yixing, “Shall we head back then, Lay? I’m sure Lu Han will have managed to pull something from my cooks.”  
  
Yixing nearly tripped at the comment, worried that his comment had implied that he was thinking about his own hunger instead of paying attention to the Duke’s _interesting_ take on the significance of lotus flowers. Thankfully, the Duke said nothing as he continued to support Yixing’s weight  until the courtesan was on his feet once more.  
  
As they headed back through the garden entrance, Yixing slipped his arm through the Duke’s, sneaking a look back at the pond; perhaps he wouldn’t mind being compared to the lotus if it was the Duke’s version of the pastel pink flower.


	10. Chapter 10

Yixing lay awake in his bed, staring out the window at the shadows of a couple lanterns outside the Duke’s guest room, blowing slightly in the light breeze. He let out a long sigh as he turned to glance down at Lu Han’s sleeping figure on the floor next to him; the boy had fervently refused Yixing’s offer to share the bed.  
  
It was the new moon tonight, the first new moon in a very long time that Yixing wasn’t on _The Star’s_ stage, putting on a performance. Tomorrow would be Yixing’s last dance, at least until he somehow managed to find a way back into Lady Pearl’s good graces again. He knew that this could hardly mean anything to the Duke but Yixing felt like he needed to thank the man for letting him undo a regret.  
  
“What do you think, Lu Han? How do I tell the Duke ‘thank you’?” Yixing mused out loud at the sleeping child. Predictably, Lu Han gave no response but a soft snore in between even breathing. Yixing let out another sigh as he turned his focus up at the roof of his bed, hoping that the swirling pattern on the cloth overhead would be enough to lull him into a dreamless sleep.  
  
…  
  
Yixing took a deep breath as he stared at himself in the small mirror sitting on the table in the corner of the Duke’s guest room. He wiped at a small line of lipstick that seemed to have run away from him since he applied it a few minutes ago. He tried to calm his nerves with a deep breath, only to find it coming out shaky. Closing his eyes, his fingers folded into tight fists as he tried again, only to be interrupted by a _clang_ from behind him.  
  
“Oops,” Lu Han voiced sheepishly, getting to his knees just as Yixing spun around to find one of the stools around the table on its side.  
  
With a long sigh, Yixing stood up to help Lu Han who had just about gotten the chair upright again. “Please be careful, Lu Han,” Yixing started, a scolding tone in his voice, “Lady Pearl was nice enough to let you come with me this time, but if it gets back to her that you’re running around tipping furniture over carelessly, she won’t let me take you with me anymore.”  
  
Lu Han nodded understandingly as he finally, with Yixing’s help, put the chair back in its place. The courtesan let out a soft sigh as he watched Lu Han hop onto the uprighted chair. He doubted it would matter even if the Duke managed to get out to Lady Pearl that Lu Han had been a poor guest; everyone at _The Star_ loved the boy anyway. He had a way with words, always complimenting the girls on their outfits, calling them pretty and convincing them to sneak him snacks. Yixing was pretty sure Lu Han had even convinced the stone faced Lady Pearl to do something for him.  
  
“So, you excited to dance for the duke?” Lu Han piped up, picking up a pair of chopsticks to poke at one of the snacks Minseok had left them this morning.  
  
Yixing raised an eyebrow as he took the seat beside Lu Han. “Why would you say that?”  
  
Lu Han shrugged with a grin before stuffing a whole piece of cake into his mouth, earning a scowl from Yixing. “I know I know, smaller bites,” Lu Han mumbled almost incoherently as he chewed, which only make Yixing scowl harder, “And don’t talk with my mouth full. Okay, okay. I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour later, when the Duke is around.” Lu Han smiled crookedly as Yixing reached over to wipe a dirty spot on the boy’s chin with his thumb.  
  
“You should practice now, then,” Yixing retorted with a shake of his head only to receive a shrug in return before Lu Han reached for another treat.  
  
The courtesan prayed silently that Lu Han would keep his word and act properly later.  
  
…  
  
Yifan paused for a moment in front of his guest room, hand stilling on the handle as he let out a sigh.  
  
“Your Grace?” Ah Mei chimed beside him, shaking Yifan from his thoughts and reminding him what he was here for in the first place.  
  
“Ah, yes,” Yifan replied after catching a quick glance of a concerned Minseok from behind Ah Mei. “I want you to meet someone.”  
  
Ah Mei nodded, “Yes, Your Grace said they would be the Guest of Honour tonight?”  
  
“Right,” Yifan answered before turning to the doors in front of him again and pushing them open slightly to find Lay wiping something from Lu Han’s chins before Minseok announced the arrival of the Duke. Yifan had to hide the small grin that pulled at the corners of his lips when Lay almost tripped trying to get up as fast as he could to greet the Duke.  
  
“This is…?” Ah Mei asked from beside him, voice almost inaudible as she eyed Lay with a sceptical eye.  
  
“A dancer,” Yifan finished for her, hoping to dispel any prejudgement Ah Mei might have about his ‘guest’. “She’ll be putting on a show for us before dinner.”  
  
The Duke chanced a look in Lay’s direction, tucking his hands behind his back as he watched the courtesan smile politely and bow in greeting towards Ah Mei.  
  
“Her name is Lay,” Yifan continued to explain, stepping up to stand next to the courtesan across from Ah Mei. He held out an arm to gesture towards Ah Mei as he turned to face Lay, “And this is Ah Mei,” he introduced, “Daughter of our General.”  
  
Ah Mei nodded in acknowledgement as Lay bowed again, “It’s nice to meet you, My Lady.”  
  
Yifan hesitated a moment before he cleared his throat to continue on, “Unofficially, Ah Mei is also my fiancé.” He felt Ah Mei shift beside him, and he glanced over briefly to find a slight tint of pink colouring her cheeks as she turned away slightly, a smile tugging on her pink lips. Hiding a chuckle behind a cough, the Duke turned his attention back towards Lay, now wearing a blank look that Yifan had trouble reading; did he imagine the odd twitch of the courtesan’s eyebrow, or the curious falter behind that smile?  
  
Ah Mei shuffled quietly, but loud enough to draw the Duke’s attention from the odd expression on Lay’s face. “Ah, well, Lay, we’re looking forward to your performance tonight. I must take my leave for now; I’m sure some of my guests have already arrived and require my attention.” Yifan nodded once towards Lay before he turned to leave, gesturing for Ah Mei to join him in walking back towards the Main House.  
  
As Minseok closed the guest room doors behind them, Yifan chanced a last glance through the shrinking gap of the door, catching a pair of shaded eyes upon a face he still couldn’t read.  
  
*  
  
Yixing stared at his sleeve as the room doors closed with a slight _clack_ of wood on wood.  
  
 _Fiancé._  
  
The courtesan’s eyebrows came together at the term, wondering why the word seemed so odd. He couldn’t say that it bothered it, but it stood out at him, suddenly reminding Yixing that the Duke had a proper life outside of his visits to _The Star_.  
  
 _“I’d like to remind you that he is a duke, that he is royalty, that he has responsibilities as one.”_ Minseok’s words rang in his eyes as Yixing stared blindly at the bottom ledge of the doorway.  
  
With a final shrug a minute later, Yixing sighed and turned back towards the room; he had more important things to focus on than politics between dukes and generals, like his show tonight.  
  
Quite possibly his last show, ever.  
  
He took a deep breath and sat down in front of his mirror and picked up his stick of kohl, willing his hand to stop shaking nervously as he brought it up to his eyes.  
  
…  
  
Yifan joined his guests in polite applause at the end of Lay’s performance, smiling extra wide when he made eye contact with the curtseying courtesan on stage. He found himself unable to look away even as Lay bowed a last time and disappeared behind hanging sheets. The Duke’s guests turned to raise glasses at their host, showering questions on where the Duke had picked up such a beauty.  
  
“Will she be joining us for dinner?” One of the Emperor’s many advisors piped up, prompting a chorus of similar requests for the Duke to ‘share this beauty with them’. Yifan hesitated behind his smile; he’d never imagined inviting Lay to join dinner, to _share_ him with his guests.  
  
“I’m sure Miss Lay is hungry,” Ah Mei piped up finally beside him, agreements flying out at the Duke, making him wonder if any of his fellow politicians ever agreed on anything on such a united front on anything professional.  
  
With a defeated sigh and a finger to his lips, Yifan got to his feet, straightening his robes as his guests cheered victoriously, wives shaking their heads with barely concealed amusement at how easily their husbands were excited. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, “I’ll be back in a moment, I have to prepare our poor dancer for all of you idiots,” he joked, beckoning for Minseok as he left the room, laughter following after the pair as they exited.  
  
*  
  
Yifan paused at the door of Lay’s room, staring at the wooden panels sternly. “Stay here, Minseok. I need a minute with Lay,” he said before pushing the doors open, his manservant nodding once before stepping up to close the doors behind the Duke as requested.  
  
Lay stood up hastily from the marble table in the center of the room, stepping out to bow deeply in greeting. “Your Grace,” the words tumbled out clumsily, slightly alarmed.  
  
Yifan wondered idly if there would ever be a time that Lay didn’t look so stiff and… _uncomfortable_ around him. A little taken aback by the self-forming thought, Yifan cleared his throat and made towards the table, gesturing for his guest to relax and to join him.  
  
Lay was still wearing his dress from his performance and Yifan had to distract himself as he took a seat beside the courtesan; Lay certainly looked good in green and the idea that the courtesan had potentially specifically chosen the colour for the Duke pulled up on the corners of his lips.  
  
*  
  
Yixing watched warily as the Duke opened the lid of the empty teapot sitting in the middle of the table, some unknown thought drawing a secret smile on his face. While his curiosity desperately wanted to ask the Duke what it was that seemed to amuse him so, he bit his tongue, waiting for the Duke to speak first, to explain why he was here alone with Yixing when he should be out in the Main House entertaining his guests.  
  
“I’d like for you to have dinner with me tonight,” the Duke finally announced after clearing his throat and fixing the already perfect collar on his robes, “My guests would like to meet the beautiful dancer.”  
  
“Oh,” Yixing answered involuntarily, slight disappointment colouring the simple syllable though what he had been expecting instead he had no idea. “Of course,” Yixing amended, hoping to cover the slip, “When would Your Grace like me to make an appearance?” he asked gently, the end of his question getting clipped short in surprise as the Duke took his hand in his own, getting to his feet and drawing Yixing to his as well.  
  
“Now. They’re already waiting,” the Duke answered, a curtness taking over the Duke’s typical casual tone. The Duke continued to pull Yixing’s arm to link through his own, a look of seriousness on his face that brought Yixing’s surprised eyebrows down.  
  
“I’d like you to promise me one thing for tonight though,” the Duke whispered, so low that Yixing had to press in towards him to hear. “There’s a lot of … er… _people_ and I don’t want you to get… _lost_. So just stick by my side, alright?”  
  
 _‘Lost’?_ The room that Yixing had just left was hardly _that_ big.  
  
The Duke turned slightly to fix the shoulder of Yixing’s dress before bringing his eyes to meet Yixing’s, steadily holding his gaze expectantly. “Yes?” he prompted, wiping the look of surprise from Yixing’s face as he was reminded that he’d yet to give a response to the Duke’s proposal.  
  
“O-of course,” Yixing answered with a small nod as he closed his fingers around the Duke’s arm, noting how the muscles under his touch seemed to relax as their owner smiled and let out a soft sigh.  
  
“Alright,” the Duke continued, his familiar smile finally gracing his features once more, “But I hope you’re ready for boring political talk over dinner,” he grinned.  
  
Yixing could only smile along as he followed the Duke’s lead, hand tightened gently around the Duke’s elbow; he liked how it fit there easily.  
  
Comfortable.


	11. Chapter 11

“Cheers!” The chorus rang through the room as ceramic glasses of rice wine came together.  
  
Yixing had always assumed that political figures were always proper, even when in their office, but seeing all these men with rosy cheeks and half lidded eyes swaying off balance wiped that assumption clean. He himself was having a hard time hiding the smile that slipped at the idea of the general population finding their officials in such a state.  
  
Feigning interest in yet another politician’s personal hobbies, Yixing snuck a glance to his right where the Duke had been seated ever since he had returned with the courtesan on his arm. Yixing had been led around the room, greeting each member individually before taking a seat on one side of the Duke, his other side occupied by the woman who had earlier been introduced to Yixing as the Duke’s fiancé. It had been another hour after the dinner dishes had been cleared before all the ladies in the room retired to the garden as their husbands (and fiancé) continued to be entertained by Lay’s presence, insisting they drink together to good health and to good company.  
  
As he’d proposed before leading Yixing into the dining room, the Duke never left his place beside his Guest of Honour, turning towards the courtesan frequently with reassuring glances that Yixing returned with grateful smiles before his attention was drawn away once more.  
  
Yixing had lost count of how much rice wine he’d had shared with all of the Duke’s political guests, each one insisting on personal time with Lay, while the others gave their efforts towards making the Duke drunk. Somewhere after ‘nine’, the Duke had declared that Lay was probably getting overwhelmed with all the attention and that they should come together as a group, spewing a riddle for the group to solve, “The first one who gets it _doesn’t_ have to drink,” he laughed, shifting closer to Yixing, almost unnoticeably.  
  
A stout man with pair of fat lips shouted ‘The answer’s a cow!’ before the Duke had properly set up the riddle, the entire room falling silent as they turned to stare at the man for a moment before breaking in raucous laughter again, the Duke that loudest of all as he shook his head, “That’s not even _close_ , and for that, you’re _all_ going to have to drink.” The Duke lead by taking his cup and downing its contents in an instant, glaring at his guests when they shook their heads at the Duke with sloppy grins.  
  
“Won’t you be joining us?” the guest sitting closest to Yixing asked, holding out a cup filled with cloudy wine, a toothy grin under a pointed nose.  
  
Before Yixing could accept the offer, a hand reached across him to take the cup from him, “I do believe our Lady Lay has already had too much because of you.”  
  
The man (was he the treasurer of something?) made an indignant expression, “You’re the one who said we all had to drink! A Duke shouldn’t go back on his words!”  
  
Yixing’s eyebrow twitched at the casualness, though he should have already become accustomed to it; it had taken about five drinks for all formalities to be dropped within the group, Yixing the only exception with his training engrained into his everyday actions. Before Yixing could open his mouth to say he was fine, the Duke downed the drink he’d intercepted, “Then I will just have to take her place then, won’t I?”  
  
The man with the pointed nose paused for a second before grinning with poorly concerned mirth, “Oh? Well, this should be interesting, does this mean you’ll be drinking twice as much as what we’re already forcing you to have?”  
  
The Duke let out a ‘tch’ but offered little argument, resulting in a chorus of cheers as everyone started shouting out suggestions on how to get the Duke to pass out.  
  
With a sigh of relief to get the spotlight off himself for the moment, Yixing stood up to let the man crowding her gain easier access to the Duke; Yixing needed a minute to himself anyway. The courtesan stared at the rowdy group for a second before remembering that he should probably make sure the Lu Han was back in their room, staying out of trouble.  
  
Ditching a failed last minute attempt to grab the Duke’s attention to let him know where he was going, Yixing slipped out the doors, hoping that he wouldn’t be gone long enough for the party inside to notice his disappearance. “Please, please, don’t be making trouble, Lu Han,” he mumbled to himself as he drew the doors closed quietly behind him.  
  
It occurred to Yixing as he tried to recall his way back to his guest room that he was breaking his agreement with the Duke to stay by the latter’s side, but Lu Han was just a kid, and Yixing should really be responsible for making sure that the child wasn’t wandering the grounds, trying to steal food wherever he can. “It’ll only be a minute,” Yixing reassured himself out loud.  
  
“What’ll only be a minute?” a familiar voice called out after him.  
  
Yixing turned around in alarm to find the same man with the pointed nose grinning at him, head slightly tilted to the side curiously. “Oh, uhm,” he fumbled, mind clouded from the drinks; he should have probably bowed somewhere in that answer. “I’m just, uh…”  
  
“If you need anything, I’m sure I can help,” the man continued, a lewd grin crooked as he approached Yixing, intent obvious in his alcohol lidded eyes.  
  
Yixing swallowed hard as he took a stumbling step back. This really hadn’t been part of the deal the Duke had struck with Lady Pearl and Yixing was in no mood to play along. A tight grip wrapped around his wrist and Yixing bit down on his lower lip as he tried to free himself.  
  
“I think you’ve had a little too much, Counselor.”  
  
The pointed-nose-man’s head spun around abruptly and Yixing took advantage of his surprise to pry his hand back to himself before looking up himself to find the Duke at the edge of the terrace, eyebrows stitched together and the muscle in his jaw twitching so much that Yixing could see him from this distance.  
  
“Perhaps it’s time you found your wife and went home to rest.”  
  
Yixing hardly noticed how the man dismissed himself with a stutter, his focus wholly on the Duke, who barely blinked as he turned his hard gaze from his counsellor to the courtesan, freezing the latter on the spot. The Duke waited until he was alone with Yixing before stepping towards him, expression still stern and forcing something uneasy into Yixing’s stomach.  
  
The Duke stopped a foot from Yixing, staring down for a long moment with his hard look before he finally let out a breath, “Are you okay?”  
  
Yixing’s eyebrows raised slightly as he watched the Duke’s shoulders fall from tenseness Yixing hadn’t noticed before. His gaze met with the Duke’s searching eyes and guilt flooded through him as he found genuine concern there, translated in the soft voice. “Y-yeah,” Yixing managed, tearing his eyes from the Duke’s as he turned away, aware that he shouldn’t be showing his back to royalty. He stepped ahead a few paces and took a seat on one of the decorative stones that littered the garden.  
  
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t leave my side tonight for this reason exactly?” the Duke’s voice called after him softly. “You should have at least told me where you were going before you left.”  
  
Yixing frowned at the scolding tone, “I was _fine_ ,” he returned obstinately. “I was just going to check in on Lu Han, make sure he wasn’t getting up to trouble.”  
  
The Duke sighed heavily as he moved towards Yixing, tone softening, “You could’ve asked Minseok to do that.”  
  
“Lu Han is _my_ responsibility, Your Grace. I don’t need you to keep intervening on my life.” The words were out of his lips before Yixing could think them and he clapped a hand over his mouth, immediately getting to his feet and bowing deeply, “I’m sorry, My Lord. I didn’t mean it that way-”  
  
The Duke put up a hand to stop Yixing’s apology in mid-sentence as he let out another sigh and held his hands behind his back. “No. You’re absolutely right. That’s why I invited you here, in fact.”  
  
Yixing unfolded into an upright position again as confusion took over his expression. “Your Grace?” he prompted as he watched the Duke start to pace.  
  
“You remember what you said to me that night you showed up here unannounced? You told me that I was the reason why you were struggling to hold on to your clients.”  
  
Yixing swallowed at the memory.  
  
“You don’t dance at _The Star_ any more, do you?”  
  
Eyebrows stitched together as the courtesan tried to recall the night exactly; he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything about his performances to the Duke.  
  
“That’s why I’ve asked for you this evening, to try to undo my errors. Tonight was your last dance. And it will also be the last time I’ll intrude in your life.” The Duke let the end of his sentence hang in the silence, holding Yixing’s gaze steadily for a long beat before he smiled and blinked away. “I will no longer be paying _The Star_ any more visits in the future. You can reacquire your clients and we will continue on our separate ways peacefully. This is the last you’ll see of me. I’ll send Minseok out to help you pack your things. I’ve enjoyed our time together, Yixing.”  
  
Yixing stared after the Duke blankly and uncomprehending as the latter headed back to his guests without another glance backwards. He should really be glad to be rid of the Duke, to be given a chance to _maybe_ climb his way back into Lady Pearl’s good books. He should be grateful to the Duke for the opportunity to have performed this last dance.  
  
Yixing hadn’t known what to expect when he first arrived at the Duke’s home two days ago, but a curt goodbye had certainly not been on the list.  
  
Dismissed so simply.  
  
Yixing’s drew in a deep breath when Minseok appeared in the Duke’s place to escort him back to the guest room.  
  
 _This won’t be my last dance._  
  



	12. Chapter 12

Yixing refilled the empty cups on the table in front of him, both topped up perfectly with levels just under the brim. Gifting a practiced shy smile towards his patron of the night (the owner of an herbal shop who had an uncanny luckiness in gambling), he picked up the cups and handed one to his guest before taking his own in both his hands. “To health,” he announced as he brought he cup forwards to meet that of his client, who pulled back at the last second, spilling several drops on his robes.  
  
“Ah, no. To the return of _The Star_ ’s most beautiful!”  
  
The courtesan feigned modesty behind his glass, blinking his eyes closed as the fiery liquid burned his throat, hoping that it was enough to hide the slight roll that he barely caught in time. He covered with another smile as he reached for his patron’s cup to fill once more; yes, Lay was back up on the list of favourites at _The Star_ , but it had taken almost a full moon cycle for the regulars to start noticing that the Duke had grown tired of Lay, and then another couple full moons for the courtesan to reacquire the higher end regulars he was used to before the Duke had so thoughtlessly scared away.  
  
This one liked his wine, almost always insisting on at least a handful of drinks in a private room before stumbling towards the bed. Yixing never asked too much about his clients (they were always so willing to talk anyway) but this one, he figured, needed a bit of wine in his system to help him forget that he had a loving wife and two children back home.  
  
The courtesan lifted their sixth round, “Shall we?” he asked, looking away from the table towards his bedroom.  
  
…  
  
Yifan couldn’t decide whether he enjoyed his cousin’s visits. Zitao certainly brought with him an air of irresponsibility but even a Duke like himself could enjoy the odd time off. All the same, the older Royal gave his younger counterpart a glare that was reserved only for when the latter propped his feet up on his tables.  
  
“How long are you staying in town _this_ time, Zitao?” Yifan asked as he used the back of his writing brush to poke the bottom of Zitao’s feet, eliciting a tickled yelp from across his desk. He replaced his brush onto its plate, resigned to accepting that no more work would be completed with Zitao in the room. He waved away his attendant (who bowed before stepping out of the way) and got up from his seat towards the round table in the middle of the room, inviting his cousin to join him, where he could dirty a table top that _wasn’t_ his work desk.  
  
Zitao shrugged as he blatantly ignored the sigh that Yifan heaved as soon as the younger’s foot started upwards. “I dunno. A couple days at least. Enough for you to bring me to that lovely place that I hear you’ve been frequenting lately.”  
  
An eyebrow raised on the Duke’s face, “Excuse me?”  
  
Zitao grinned widely, “What was it called again? _The Star_?”  
  
Yifan frowned at the name; as he’d promised, he hadn’t visited _The Star_ in a more than a few full moons. “And who told you that?”  
  
A derisive snort echoed in the room, “ _Told_ is a bit of a stretch. I may or may not have threatened Minseok into telling me which House had your favourite girls this season.”  
  
“You threatened my manservant?” Yifan stated flatly, less of a question than an exclamation of disbelief, receiving a bored shrug in response.  
  
“Might’ve said something about having the ability to get his whole family killed if he didn’t spill the beans about you.”  
  
The Duke scowled at the immaturity, “Oh, so _now_ you want to abuse your birth rights? To gain information about me? You could’ve just asked me, you know.”  
  
Another snort, “Right, because Your Uptightness would just tell me,” he mocked. Before Yifan could come up with a defense, he pushed on, “So how about tonight? Surely you can spare a night to show your dear cousin around?” Hardly waiting for a reply, Zitao kicked off the table onto his feet, “Well, I’ll be in my room until dinner, taking a nap. You better not back out on me, cousin.”  
  
Yifan grumbled, hoping the disgruntled tone covered up the slight excitement he felt at finally going back to _The Star_ after so long.  
  
Maybe Lay would be there tonight.  
  
The Duke bit the bottom of his lip in irritation; he shouldn’t be thinking about _him_ , he’d promised he wouldn’t intrude on his life any more.  
  
*  
  
“Oy, what are you waiting for, cousin?” Zitao called from the entrance of _The Star_ , crossing his arms impatiently as he looked down at Yifan. The Duke muttered an almost inaudible ‘huh’ as he blinked a couple times, only just realising that he had stopped before the steps, staring up at the washed out sign hanging above the doors.  
  
He cleared his throat with a muttered ‘nothing, just work,’ excuse before stepping forward onto the steps to catch up, following his cousin through the familiar frame and into the open hall of _The Star_. If it weren’t for the anxiety of possibly crossing paths with _him_ again, Yifan might have been amused by the shocked look on Lady Pearl’s face, obviously not expecting the Duke to return to _The Star_ after so many months. She pulled herself together quickly though, standing up and straightening her dress with her hands before sauntering over, “Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise. Your usual, then?”  
  
Yifan held up a hand and cleared his throat to stop Lady Pearl as she turned towards one of her employees, “No, that’s quite alright,” he dismissed quietly, before turning to gesture beside him, “This is my cousin, Huang Zitao.”  
  
“Ah, of course. I can see the handsome resemblance,” she gushed, “Please take your time and look around. I’ll have some wine brought to your table immediately.” With a parting smile, she disappeared at the back of the room behind some hanging sheets.  
  
“So,” Zitao started smugly as Yifan started towards an empty table near the back left of the open floor, “You have a ‘usual’? I’ve never known you to stick to a single option.”  
  
Yifan scowled, trying to keep his eyes trained on his destination, not allowing himself to look around.  
  
“Oh, come on, Yifan. If you point her out, I’ll promise not to pick her,” Zitao singsonged, “Can’t have you wrecking this beautiful face.”  
  
Yifan scoffed at his cousin’s usual vanity, sliding into a chair and thanking the waitress who immediately dropped off a bottle of rice wine at their table. “Can you just pick one so I can get this over with?” he grumbled, keeping his head down as he poured himself a cup of wine.  
  
“Awww,” the younger whined, “Well, you’ve gotta pick one too. I can’t have _all_ the fun.”  
  
Yifan scowled; he knew there was only one face here he’d want to pick but also knew he couldn’t. “Just pick one for me,” he bit out, annoyed as he downed his drink in one gulp, face contorting slightly as the liquid burned his throat.  
  
It was a few minutes of Zitao starting a running commentary of each individual girl in the House while Yifan stared at his full cup, swirling a chopstick in the wine listlessly as he hummed at appropriate intervals without paying much attention.  
  
“Oooh, she’s pretty,” Zitao announced, his voice a little more pointed than the last million comments.  
  
Yifan didn’t bother to look up. “That’s kind of the point here, Zitao,” he sighed, putting down the chopstick and getting to his feet. “I’m going to the bathroom. I hope by the time I get back, you’ll have made up your mind already.”  
  
“Yeah, I definitely like her,” Zitao continued out loud to himself, having not heard a single one of Yifan’s words as he stared towards the upper balconies that overlooked the main area.  
  
The Duke only rolled his eyes before starting towards the back exit, berating himself internally when he started to hope that he would run into _someone_ accidentally.  
  
…  
  
Yixing hummed a tune he used to dance to as he peered down at the busy first floor of _The Star_ , scanning through the faces to find his next client, frowning when none of them looked interesting. That one scams his fellow villagers, this one likes them too young and that one… Yixing stopped when his eyes landed on an unfamiliar face. _Well you’re new_ , Yixing thought to himself, head cocking slightly to the side as he studied this new discovery.  
  
He certainly wasn’t from around here; Yixing could tell from the scruffy hair cut shamelessly short and the boots crossed at the ankle and resting on the table that this man had yet to realise that _The Star_ was reserved for a class higher than wherever he’d come from. Then again, his robes and the confident way he surveyed the room suggested otherwise. _Lu Han would probably name him Boots_ , Yixing thought idly, lips curving upwards at the terrible nickname.  
  
As if he knew he was being watched, _Boots_ looked up towards the second floor, looking eyes with Yixing who didn’t miss a beat as his natural initial delight pulled up in a wide smile, gifting the stranger with a small wink.  
  
 _‘She’s pretty_ ,’ the courtesan read off _Boots’_ lips. For a brief moment, Yixing wondered who _Boots_ was talking to for a moment before he noticed the other figure sharing the table, bent over his cup.  
  
 _How long has he been here?_ Yixing wondered to himself, fingers gripping the bannister tightly as he tried to pacify whatever it was that had started to settle in the bottom of his stomach when he first set eyes on _him_.  
  
 _What was he doing here? He_ promised.  
  
Yixing swallowed uneasily as he continued to hold a smile towards his stranger, eyes flickering to the side to watch _him_ stand up and mutter a few words before turning to leave through the back door. For a moment, irritation bubbled under his fingers as they folded tighter around the banister; why had no one sent for Lay upon _his_ arrival?  
  
 _Boots_ sent Yixing a wide smile, the former waving for the latter to descend and join him at his table. The courtesan nodded slightly in response, watching as _Boots_ hailed down the nearest waitress and signalled towards Yixing and then to his table, obviously asking for an additional cup.  
  
By the time Yixing had made it down the steps and across the floor, the third cup had already been brought and _Boots_ had filled it, waiting for Lay to take a seat before holding out the filled cup to the courtesan. “So what’s your name?”  
  
Yixing downed his drink and smiled as he put down the cup silently on the marble surface, “I’m-”  
  
“Lay?”  
  
Yixing joined his patron in looking up abruptly at the voice, one swallowing hard while the other laughed jovially, “Oh, so you know of this one, dear cousin?”  
  
The Duke didn’t bother providing a reply, and instead, held Yixing’s gaze steadily. The latter watched a muscle in the Duke’s lower jaw clench a couple time before purposely looking away and smiling widely at _Boots_ as he rest his hand softly on the latter’s,“Ah! I never knew the Duke had a cousin, I’m terribly embarrassed, My Lord.”  
  
A snort sounded from across the table and Yixing took a deep breath, hoping that his growing irritation went unnoticed. _Why was he here?_  
  
“Don’t call him ‘My Lord’ if you want to get into his good books. I do believe he prefers ‘Tao’. He seems to think he’s too good for his full name, right, Huang Zitao?” the Duke explained, smirking at his cousin as he slid back into his seat, gaze fully settled on Yixing the entire time.  
  
Yixing frowned at the condescending tone, almost sure that there was an oddly forced cheer in his voice. Tao, on the other hand, rolled his eyes with mock offense, lifting his leg to pretend to kick the Duke off his chair. Yixing raised an alarmed eyebrow at the action, surprised that there was anyone that would attempt to kick a Duke off his chair.  
  
The Duke simply uttered a simple ‘tch’ of disapproval, keeping silent as he continued to stare down Yixing, who turned away to shift his chair closer to Tao. “So, _Tao_ , how come I’ve never seen you around here before?”  
  
“He doesn’t live here,” the Duke answered, prompting Yixing to draw in another breath to calm down, still avoiding the speaker’s eye.  
  
“Dear cousin, I love you and all, but I’m trying to have a conversation here.” Tao piped up, picking up one of his chopsticks and throwing it at the Duke. “Shut up, will ya? Don’t make me beat you up in public.”  
  
Yixing had to cough to cover up the shocked choke that had come up, finally glancing across the table at the Duke, who had finally tore his gaze away from Yixing to glare at Tao. Silence hung at the table for a moment as the Duke continued to scowl at his visibly increasingly concerned cousin who had started to raise his eyebrows in question. “Uh, I’m not actually going to beat you up in public…” Tao started before the Duke’s look hardened.  
  
“We need to talk,” the Duke stated flatly before getting to his feet abruptly and swivelling around on his heel, starting for the back door once more with swift steps.  
  
Yixing turned his attention to Tao who only shrugged after a moment of disbelief, “Uh, sorry, Lay,” he apologized, carefully removing Yixing’s hand from his own, “You’ll have to excuse me for a little bit while I go talk to my suddenly crazy cousin.”  
  
Yixing could only sit in his chair quietly with a somewhat bewildered look on his cocked head as he watched the two cousins disappear.  
  
 _What the hell just happened?_


	13. Chapter 13

Yifan paced in _The Star_ ’s back courtyard, chewing on his fingernails until he remembered that it had been an old habit he should have kicked as a child, having been constantly berated by his mother for ‘decent bahaviour’. Instead, he resorted to curling his fingers tightly on his sleeves, fingers clenching the cloth as an almost sufficient substitute to fidgeting anxiously.  
  
“So… by ‘we need to talk,’ you actually meant ‘I need to go outside and pace in the garden as I make you watch’?” Tao chirped from his seat on a stone stool, an ankle resting on the opposite knee, arms crossed.  
  
Yifan stopped abruptly to glare down his cousin, hands letting go of cloth as they came together, fingernails picking at each other with shaky agitation. “ _No_ , of course not,” he scowled before finally giving in and biting down on his fingernails again; he’d deal with his mother’s disappointed sighing later.  
  
“Then what was it that you wanted to talk about then?” Tao asked, glancing back at the door they’d left through. “It’s not like I have business to get back to or anything,” he added sarcastically.  
  
Yifan’s eyebrows stitched together, “Not that one,” he blurted, only to have his cousin give him a confused look, one eye squinting up at Yifan. “Anyone else but Lay,” the Duke clarified finally.  
  
“What?” Tao started before the word quieted into a silent ‘Oh’, an annoying smile taking over his face that Yifan could only frown at. “So _Lay_ ’s your favourite then?”  
  
The Duke kissed his teeth, irritated that his cousin couldn’t just do what he was asked without making a fuss. “Just... Pick someone else. _Anyone_ else.”  
  
Tao paused for a moment with a blank expression before making a show of kicking his foot off himself and standing up to dust his clothes off. He shot Yifan a smirk before turning away and heading back through the back door without a reply, leaving his cousin behind to throw his hands up in defeat.  
  
“Is that a yes?”  
  
…  
  
Yixing managed to stare blankly at the empty cups sitting on the table only a moment before curiosity got the better of him. He took care to leave his seat gingerly before hurrying with the most grace he could manage towards the door that had just closed behind the pair of royal cousins.  
  
Cautiously, the courtesan pushed open the folding doors enough to see through a crack, making out the back of the Duke standing over his grinning cousin.  
  
“Just pick someone else, anyone else,” Yixing heard in the Duke’s familiar voice.  
  
The courtesan didn’t bother paying attention to any response that Tao would have had, focused on glaring daggers into the Duke’s back for ruining a perfectly wonderful conversation he would have had with a new client.  
  
Yixing nearly tripped backwards when he suddenly noticed the Duke’s cousin heading towards him and it took him a moment to steady himself, clearing his throat as he took several steps backwards, pretending to be pleasantly surprised when the door opened completely. “There you are, Tao. I was beginning to wonder where you had gone!” Yixing offered, almost surprised at how even his voice came out as he purposely avoided glancing over at the Duke who had stopped in the doorway behind his cousin.  
  
Tao seemed alarmed to see Yixing, eyes wider than usual for a long beat before they finally settled into a more natural state, corners folding as he smiled. “Ah, sorry about that, just some family business,” he explained apologetically before turning around for a brief moment. “My cousin’s a weird one, isn’t he?” Tao asked, waiting until the end of the question before turning to face Yixing again with a pout, “I’m terribly sorry, sweetheart. I forgot that there’s someplace I have to be tonight. It was lovely to meet you though,” he explained before bending down briefly to whisper, “Good luck with the Duke, I’ll be rooting for you.”  
  
Yixing’s eyes widened at the strange comment but before he could ask what Tao meant by it, the latter had kissed him quickly on the cheek. The Duke’s oddly dressed cousin gave Yixing a last friendly wave before he stepped around Yixing, whistling as he left. Yixing watched the retreating figure in silence, wondering what that last comment had been about and whether or not there was a tone of pity in his voice.  
  
It took the sound of someone clearing their voice behind him to remind Yixing that he wasn’t alone. He spun around abruptly to find the Duke still standing in the open doorway, gaze averted as he cleared his throat again, fingers pulling his already perfect sleeves in place.  
  
The courtesan found his jaw clenching unnaturally as he watched the Duke straightening himself. _Why is he back? He shouldn’t be back. He said he wouldn’t ever come back again so_ why is he back?  
  
“I… should get going then, I guess,” the Duke mumbled, almost inaudible before he cleared his throat again, “It was… nice… seeing you again,” he finished, ducking his head as he stepped around Yixing to leave.  
  
Yixing turned to watch the Duke, as he had done with the cousin. His jaw clenched tightly shut as a million unanswered questions flew around in his head. “You said you’d stop intruding in my life,” he finally managed to blurt out flatly, swallowing hard when his audience stopped in his tracks, but not turning around. “That means you can’t be telling my clients to pick someone else,” he bit out, more aggressively than he’d originally intended. _Stop, Yixing. He’s a Duke. You can’t talk to him like that. He can do whatever he damn well pleases._ “Is this the value of a Duke’s promise?” Yixing pressed on, ignoring the reprimanding voices in his head as he stood his ground, brow furrowed as he waited for a reaction from the Duke, who finally turned around to face him again after a long beat.  
  
The Duke’s continued silence only spurred Yixing’s irritation. How _dare_ he just come back in here after _months_ of nothing and just walk around dictating who Yixing could and could not be with; he gave up that privilege when he dismissed the courtesan from his life. _You’re not allowed_. The Duke simply _couldn’t_ give Yixing just enough time to start forgetting about him and then traipse into _The Star_ , pretending to have any sort of control over Yixing’s life again.  
  
The Duke continued to stand silently in the dimly lit hallway, his gaze held fixedly on Yixing as he had done back in the dining area. Yixing raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, waiting for any explanation or at least a scolding of his poor attitude towards a member of the royal family.  
  
Instead, the Duke only stepped forwards to close the gap between them, lifting a hand that made Yixing finally look away with a flinch, anticipating the sting on his face. When it didn’t come, he peaked through one eye in time to feel a soft finger brush against his cheek before tucking a stray hair behind his ear. His cheeks burning, Yixing glanced up at the Duke timidly, unsure any more of what to expect. His eyes widened even further when the Duke’s warm sigh blew at the top of his head, sending a shiver down Yixing’s back before the Duke rested his forehead against his own. “Uhm, Your Grace?” Yixing’s voice shook uneasily as he stood frozen in place.  
  
The Duke shook his head slightly against Yixing, a careful finger coming up to the latter’s lips to hush him.  
  
Every muscle in the courtesan’s body was tense and a burning flush was creeping into his face, but Yixing didn’t dare move, breath caught in his throat even as the Duke finally pulled away after what felt like a year. “I have to find my cousin,” the Duke announced quietly, his voice cracking as he stepped back and brought his hands back to hold behind him, posture fully composed as he departed with a final nod.  
  
It was a long moment that Yixing stood in the empty hallway before he remembered to breathe again, unsure fingers coming up to his forehead, drawing away quickly when they seemed to burn. _What are you playing at? What more do you want from me?!_  
  
“Yixing ge?”  
  
The soft whisper brought the courtesan back to his senses and he blinked a couple of times before he noticed Lu Han staring up at him with a look of concerned confusion.  
  
“Are you okay, Yixing gege?”  
  
“Of course!” Yixing replied cheerfully with a wide smile that he hoped would sell his lie.  
  
“Oh, okay,” Lu Han shrugged easily, “Here,” he prompted as he grabbed Yixing’s hand and dropped a small cold object in his hand. “Eyebrows Shushu told me to give this to you. And he also said ‘full moon’, which I hope you understand because Eyebrows Shushu didn’t even give me a chance to ask him what he meant before he ran off with that weirdly dressed guy with those funny boots.”  
  
Yixing could see Lu Han peer up at him curiously, obviously waiting for the former to comment. “Uhm,” Yixing started, “Was there anything else?” he asked instead, almost laughing again when Lu Han visibly pouted before shaking his head and then running off once again.  
  
Yixing scowled as Lu Han hurried on another errand, not bothering to squint through the poor lighting at the item the boy had messengered before shoving it harshly into the pouch in his belt; the Duke had already taken up too much of his time tonight, but hopefully, Yixing had enough left to find a paying customer for the night.  
  
…  
  
Yifan checked around him to make sure he hadn’t been followed before he let out a long breath, breaking his stone stature to lean onto a wall, thumb and forefinger rubbing at his temples as his eyebrows stitched together, eyes squeezed tightly closed. “What are you doing, Wu Yifan?” he asked himself out loud in a whisper. He had absolutely no recollection of _wanting_ to rest his forehead against Lay’s, his feet had carried him over to the courtesan on their own. By the time Yifan had realised what he was doing was completely inappropriate, he’d already felt his muscles relax easily and it was too comfortable to pull away.  
  
“Whoa, Cousin. You okay, there?”  
  
Yifan felt a firm hand rest on his shoulder and he cleared his throat, back straightening immediately on contact, “Yeah. I’m fine, just got a bit dizzy for a moment there.”  
  
Tao snorted, “You had like one cup, and you’re drunk already? Wow, you’ve gotten soft,” he mocked, removing his hand only to smack Yifan heartily on the back, to which the Duke only scowled. With a chortle, Tao shoved his hands in the opposite sleeves, “So where shall we go since I’m clearly not wanted in here. By you anyway,” he added cheekily.  
  
Yifan opened his mouth to suggest one of the other shops in the area, only to have his attention drawn to a grinning boy running from table to table, collecting empty wine bottles. A second later, Lu Han looked up back at him, waving with his free hand as he unloaded his other hand onto a shelf before making his way to the Duke. “I’ll catch up with you in a second, Tao,” he mumbled without looking at his cousin, returning Lu Han’s eager smile with his own. He caught Tao rolling his eyes and shrugging from the corner of his eye before the latter started wandering over towards the entrance, grabbing a bottle off an unwatched table before he left.  
  
“Eyebrows Shushu!” Lu Han greeted, barely managing to wrap his small arms around Yifan’s waist. “What are you doing here? Yixing gege said you were never coming back again! Where’s Baozi gege? Are you hungry?”  
  
Yifan was forced to laugh at the endless energy of the boy as he knelt down to the boy’s level.  
  
“Do you want me to find Lay jiejie for you? I think she’s just upstairs, she should be down in a moment! Do you want something to drink while you wait?”  
  
Yifan pulled lightly at the mess on top of Lu Han’s head as the latter spewed words as though never needing to breath. At the mention of Lay, Yifan’s head snapped towards the back of the building, swallowing hard as he recalled the intimate moment. _Intimate?_ Could Yifan even call it that? He shouldn’t have shown up here tonight, even if he _had_ wanted to see _him_ again. The Duke was supposed to have Ah Mei already, he simply _couldn’t_ be having this feeling in his chest.  
  
Teeth clenched, the Duke turned back to Lu Han who had his eyebrows raised into his forehead expectantly. “Ah, no. Not tonight. Eyebrows Shushu has to leave. But can you do me a favour?” Yifan asked, reaching down  into his belt to retrieve his idea before holding it up in front of the boy. “Give this to Lay jiejie, okay? And tell him ‘the full moon’. He’ll know what I mean,” he finished quickly, getting to his feet and hurrying after his cousin, lest he have disappeared into somewhere unknown.  
  
 _Either way, I have to be sure._


	14. Chapter 14

Yixing let out a long sigh as he watched Lu Han pull _The Star_ ’s front doors closed, making sure to avoid Lady Pearl’s eye as the latter looked up from the head table where she was counting tonight’s sales. He would love to blame another fruitless night on the Duke’s sudden appearance, but he could only blame his own distracted conversation even after the Duke had left.  
  
The courtesan shook his head to himself as he ascended the stairs to his room, closing the door with a long sigh before heading to his makeup counter. Not bothering to sit down, he glared at his reflection as he yanked the belted cloth around his waist loose, almost jumping in alarm as something clattered to his feet. Caught in mid-tug, Yixing looked down at the key laying on the ground, still rocking a bit from the fall. Hugging his knees as he bent down to a crouch, Yixing stared blankly at the object, trying to remember where it had come from and why it looked so familiar, until he finally recalled the moment in the hallway with the Duke with burning ears.  
  
 _“Eyebrows Shushu told me to give this to you. And he also said ‘full moon’.”_  
  
Yixing leaned forwards slightly to pick up the metal object with a frown, recalling the padlock that the Duke had unlocked with a similar looking key, (no, the _same_ key) a while ago, that place with the lotus garden. Gaze still held steadily on the key, Yixing stood up once more only to drop himself into the chair beside him, frown changing into a scowl. Creases formed in his forehead as his fingers tightened around the small metal object; the Duke was surely an entitled bastard to come looking for Lay after promising to stay out of the courtesan’s life but _this_ , to play puppet master and simply expect Yixing to do anything and everything the Duke wanted, it was simply… _unacceptable_.  
  
Yixing grabbed the drawer closest to him, throwing it open in a fury before throwing the key in unceremoniously and slamming it closed again, making the items on the make-up counter fall over from the force.  
  
“Yixing gege?”  
  
The courtesan’s head snapped around to the room entrance at the timid voice, inner flames quelling at the sight of Lu Han standing with a worried expression.  
  
“Are you okay?” Lu Han continued in the same small voice that he’d announced his presence with, his eyes flickering between Yixing and the make-up counter where items were still settling from the loud impact.  
  
Plastering on his best smile, Yixing nodded as he stood up and walked towards Lu Han a few steps before crouching before the latter. “Have you completed all your chores for the night?” he asked conversationally as he picked at Lu Han’s always-stubborn hair.  
  
“Yep!” Lu Han replied cheerfully before he swatted at Yixing’s hand with a grumpy frown.  
  
Yixing couldn’t help but grin as he gave Lu Han’s hair a last ruffle that earned him a glower. “Want to sleep with Yixing ge tonight?” he asked quietly as he got to his feet again.  
  
Lu Han didn’t answer immediately, raising an eyebrow up at Yixing; they both knew that despite the fact that Lu Han was barely ten years old, Lady Pearl didn’t like Lu Han staying overnight in any of the girls’ rooms, even Yixing’s. When the two ignored the rule, it was usually Lu Han who snuck in next to Yixing, almost always because of a nightmare.  
  
Yixing ignored the questioning look that Lu Han was still shooting his way as he started to change into his nightwear, wondering when Lu Han had gotten so perceptive or when he himself had gotten so easy to read. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yixing continued out loud in an uncaring tone, secretly eyeing Lu Han, laughing lightly when the latter’s eyes shot open as expected as he shook his head furiously.  
  
“No, I’ll stay!” the boy exclaimed, voice cracking with excitement as he hurried past Yixing to the bed, hopping onto it and swinging his feet back and forth over the edge as he waited for Yixing. He was still grinning when Yixing finally squeezed past him to lie down, prompting the boy to follow suite. Lu Han tucked himself into Yixing’s chest as the older pulled a blanket over both of them and wrapped his arm around the younger before closing his eyes.  
  
“Yixing gege?” Lu Han piped up quietly.  
  
Yixing didn’t bother opening his eyes as he hummed in return.  
  
“Are you seeing Eyebrows Shushu on the full moon?” Lu Han continued in a tone that Yixing felt was too serious to be coming from a ten year old. Lu Han pulled away from Yixing to look up at the courtesan imploringly,  “That’s in a couple days, right?”  
  
Yixing opened his eyes to stare straight past the top of Lu Han’s head at the wall for a long moment before letting out a long sigh and pulling Lu Han tightly in his chest again, “I’m tired, Lu Han, let’s just go to sleep, okay?”  
  
…  
  
“And that’s the last of it,” Minseok announced as he rolled up the last page and put it back on the shelf behind Yifan. “Shall I send for dinner? I can have it brought here if you’d prefer, since Madam won’t be dining with you tonight, and your cousin has announced his own plans for the night.”  
  
Yifan put down his brush and straightened out his sleeve before turning to stare out the window at the pink sky of sundown. “Actually, I think I’ll like to go take a walk outside,” he answered easily as he pushed out from his seat.  
  
“Ah, of course. I shall prepare-”  
  
“Alone,” Yifan cut in before his manservant could finish as he got up, ignoring the sceptical looks Minseok sent his way.  
  
“Can I ask where you will be going then, My Lord? After all, a Duke shouldn’t be wandering the city aimlessly without accompaniment. What would I tell your mother if she came back unexpectedly, looking for you?”  
  
Yifan turned to scowl at Minseok’s creative skills of coercing responses from the Duke. “What was wrong with just stopping after ‘Can I ask where you will be going?’? What does me going for a walk have to do with Mother?”  
  
Minseok only shrugged innocently, “It was possible that Your Grace might tell me off for being nosy.”  
  
Yifan groaned as his eyes rolled up and his head fell back in exasperation. Purposely, he volunteered no answer, moving towards the exit more persistently until Minseok cleared his throat a little too loudly to be natural. Pausing with a brief shake of his head, he turned to make sure his manservant could see just how _annoyed_ Yifan was with Minseok’s persistence, “Dad’s old place, okay?”  
  
*  
  
The Duke stared up as he tucked his hands in the opposite sleeves, trying not to dig his nails too hard into his wrists. The sun was already starting to set, grey starting to paint the pink-streaked sky. What on earth had possessed Yifan to think that it was good idea to give away the _only_ key to that lock on the gate. He glanced up at the walls on either side, looking for trees before recalling that there was a single lock just at the entrance for a reason. The Duke let out a long sigh as he rested his head on the doors, eyes closed as he took a deep breath in.  
  
 _Lay should be here soon anyway._  
  
*  
  
Yifan paced in front of the doors, thankful for the full moon lighting up the area enough that he hadn’t walked into any walls yet. _Where is he?_ Maybe he shouldn’t have trusted Lu Han to deliver that message, or maybe Lay didn’t understand it? _No, it’s pretty obvious what I’d meant by that key._ Maybe he’d gotten lost, maybe he didn’t remember how to get here. _But he would’ve gone to find Seok if he needed direction, right?_  
  
A brisk breeze sent shivers down Yifan’s spine and he crouched, one hand folding over the other as he breathed warm air over them. “Lost, definitely lost,” he mumbled to himself, trying to ignore the small persistent voice in his head that was trying to convince him that Lay had simply decided not to come. “Should’ve told Minseok to go pick him up, he probably forgot.” His head dropping into his chest as he contemplated heading back home, “But what if he’s on his way? If I leave now, he might show up.”  
  
Yifan groaned and put his hands on his head for a minute before clearing his throat and standing straight again. “Wu Yifan. What are you doing? You are a Duke. You shouldn’t have to wait on anyone. Now go home.” He took a deep breath and prayed silently that the full moon would be enough to light his way back.  
  
*  
  
“Back so soon, Your Grace?” Minseok piped as he greeted Yifan at the entrance to his home, a hint of sceptical confusion and mockery in his voice.  
  
“Shut up and get my bed ready,” Yfan scowled, in no mood to play around with Minseok. The trip hom had probably taken twice as long as it should have, even with the poor lighting, what with his inexplicable compulsion to keep backtracking before reminding himself that he should head home.  
  
Minseok gave Yifan only a single concerned look before he nodded at the servants lining the walls. “Is there anything else?”  
  
The Duke shook his head, eyes already drooping with sleep, “Did, uh, did… Lay ever come by tonight?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.  
  
“Lay?” Minseok asked, “Uhm, no, My Lord. Did you not…?” he began before Yifan shot him an angry look. “Right, your bed.”  
  
*  
  
“You look like you didn’t get any sleep last night. Work keeping you up?”  
  
Yifan looked up from his bowl to find his mother staring at him with worry clear on her features. “Ah, uhm. Yeah, just some things here and there I have to do.”  
  
“Well don’t work yourself too hard okay? Maybe you should take a nap this afternoon before the engagement party tonight.”  
  
“Engagement party?” Yifan repeated blandly.  
  
The Duke’s mother raised an eyebrow, “Don’t tell me you forgot?”  
  
Yifan blinked a couple times before remembering what she was referring to, “No, of course not. We’ve had that planned for half a month already. How could I forget mother’s precious shindig?”  
  
Yifan’s mother smiled as she put down her chopsticks after dropping vegetables in his bowl, “Good. Well, eat up so you don’t look like a ghost tonight. I’ve got a couple of details to tend to still.”  
  
“Yes, Captain Wu!” Yifan grinned before shovelling rice into his mouth.  
  
*  
  
“I thought Madam asked that you take a nap this afternoon, My Lord. Not wander out to the city to visit… whatever,” Minseok piped up beside Yifan as they strolled the streets with no particular destination.  
  
“Do you ever stop talking, Seok?” Yifan snapped, trying not to notice that this was the third time he’d walked past _The Star_.  “And stop wearing that look on your face.”  
  
“But My Lord, I’m not wearing any ‘look’ on my face. This is just my face.”  
  
Yifan hardly bothered to turn around to look at his manservant; no doubt he was playing innocent while still wearing that insufferable ‘know-it-all’ expression. He was pretty sure he didn’t need Minseok snickering at him for walking around in circles that held _The Star_ at their center. Still, Yifan paused at the entrance hesitantly.  
  
“Shouldn’t we be heading back now, My Lord?” Minseok cut in just as Yifan took a step forward; the Duke didn’t miss the berating and warning tone that he chose to ignore, quickening his pace instead.  
  
Yifan scanned the tables in _the Star_ , looking for Lay but finding only the other girls sending him smiles. Immediately, he looked for the familiar stairs up to the courtesan’s room, taking the steps two at a time, not bothering to check if Minseok had followed him or to knock on the door before opening it.  
  
The courtesan jumped in his seat as he turned around in alarm, his expression momentarily betraying… Yifan almost flinched; why did Lay seem annoyed to see him? _He_ was the one daring enough to reject a personal offer by a Duke. Crossing his arms, he opened his mouth to start on a reprimanding session only to have silence continue to fill the room before he cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
  
Lay only smiled as he got to his feet, patting out the creases in his dress lightly, “So, what do you think? Do I look pretty in this dress?” he asked, eyes twinkling as he spun around on the spot once.  
  
Yifan blinked blankly at the strange reception, trying to recall if Lay had ever been so… _perky._ “Uh, yes, you look quite lovely in that dress,” he answered flatly with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Lay seemed to grin even wider, “Perfect!” he exclaimed as he turned to admire himself in his mirror again.  
  
Yifan narrowed his eyes at the scene before him, something was definitely off about Lay’s behaviour. He watched as Lay checked the placement of his hair ornaments with a suspicious eye, “What about the one I got you?”  
  
Lay shrugged, “It doesn’t go well with this dress,” he answered easily before turning to Yifan and then walking right past him towards the door without another word.  
  
“Wait!” Yifan exclaimed as he spun around to catch Lay around the wrist, “What’s wrong with you?”  
  
“Ow! Let go!” Lay almost squeaked, pulling his hand back to himself with a flinch, rubbing the spot Yifan had grabbed with his opposite hand.  
  
The Duke narrowed his eyes once more before reaching out once more, taking care to maintain a strong grip on Lay’s hand as he pulled up the sleeve where a fresh stream of scarlet glared up at him as Lay struggled to squirm out Yifan’s hold. “What did you do?” the Duke whispered as he pulled out his handkerchief to dab at the wound.  
  
Lay only pulled away harder until he finally freed himself once more, leaving Yifan holding out his hands awkwardly. “Please stop this,” he whispered, head down and fingers still rubbing his wrist.  
  
Yifan’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Stop… what?” he asked, crossing his arms as he cocked his head slightly to the side.  
  
“Stop… this,” Yixing hesitated before throwing his hands up in exasperation, “This, everything, just _stop it_. Just stop acting like you care, _Your Grace_ , because you have other things to worry about being a _Duke_ and all.”  
  
Yifan cringed at the unnaturally spiteful tone from Lay; the courtesan has always been properly respectful towards the Duke. “Excuse me?” Yifan could only reply in shock.  
  
The courtesan closed his eyes and took a deep breath before putting on his signature smile, only this time, there was that nauseating trace of derision again. “Don’t you have an engagement party tonight to prepare for? What are you doing here, _with me_?”  
  
“I…” Yifan started to explain before he realised what Lay had actually said, “Wait, how did you know about that?”  
  
The Duke could tell that Lay was trying his best not to scowl, “ _Every_ one knows about it, you’re the _Duke_ , aren’t you?” The courtesan took another breath to compose himself again, “And if you’ll excuse me, I have the real world to get back to.”  
  
Yifan blinked a couple times blankly as he watched Lay turn to leave. “No, wait,” he called, watching the courtesan’s shoulders heave with a deep breath, “What happened to your wrist?”  
  
Silence fell in the room for a long beat before there was a reply, “You don’t get to ask that.”  
  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Please, just go.”  
  
Yifan’s jaw clenched tightly as he fought with himself in his head on his next words.  
  
“Ah, here you are, my Lord,” Minseok’s voice interrupted, making Yifan move his attention to the new addition. Minseok’s gaze flickered between the Duke and the courtesan, a single eyebrow rising at the mood of the room, “Uh, shouldn’t we head home now, My Lord? I’m sure your mother is looking for you.”  
  
“I suppose,” Yifan sighed, “But, just give me a moment here, I’ll be right out.”  
  
“No, actually, you should probably just go.”  
  
Yifan swallowed at the finality on the courtesan’s voice, and glanced at the imploring look on his servant’s face. Defeated, he let out a long sigh and gestured towards Minseok to leave as he walked forwards to join the latter, pausing only momentarily to turn towards Lay, “I’ll be back, I promise.”  
  
…  
  
His fingernails dug deep into his palms as Yixing watched the Duke leave. When the latter had finally disappeared from sight, he let go of the breath he’d been holding and stepped forwards to close his door before dropping to his knees. He pulled his sleeve up past his wrist and traced the freshest of the lines, wet again from the Duke’s abrupt actions. “What happened to my wrist?” he laughed softly to himself, “It’s all your fault in the first place,” he answered to himself, voice dropping with every syllable.  
  
“Please stop making promises you could never keep.”


	15. Chapter 15

Yifan poked at his bowl of rice absently, opposite elbow resting on the table and chin in palm. His head snapped up at the jab his mom gave in his side before signalling towards the general on the other side of the table with a shift of her eyes.  
  
“Oh, uh,” the Duke hummed after a beat when he noticed the general’s expectant grin that fell when Yifan didn’t return the same. “Sorry, I’ve been, uh, a little busy with work,” he apologized before raising his cup of wine in greeting with a chuckle, “You know how it is with all that paperwork.”  
  
The general laughed heartily before draining his drink opposite the Duke. “Can’t even take a night off for your own engagement party? My poor daughter’s going to think you don’t like her,” he joked, Ah Mei beside him bringing her sleeve up to hide her own amusement.  
  
Yifan choked on his wine at the innocent jibe, coughing a couple times as Minseok stepped up to help wipe the mess. Yifan waved his servant away, keeping the handkerchief to clean the last few drops from his lips before standing up, “Excuse me for a moment,” he apologized with a slight bow, “Please enjoy dinner in the meantime. I’ll be back soon.” He put on a gracious smile, ignoring the questioning expression that his mother, Ah Mei and her father all shared as well as the concerned one Minseok shot his way.  
  
Turning away from the head table, the Duke relaxed into the fact that none of his other guests seemed bothered to see him up and about, not to mention distracted from the current festivities. He took care not to look too eager to leave, pausing every couple of steps to smile at a politician. As soon as he was out of the room though, Yifan’s steps faltered through the courtyard before he finally settled onto a stone stool and his forehead into his hands with a groan. “Get your head in check, Duke. Stop getting distracted and focus on your duties.” He let out another groan before turn up to stare at the sky, getting annoyed when the twinkling dots brought his mind back to _The Star_ again. “Stop it, Wu Yifan. And while you’re at it, stop talking to yourself too,” he berated before groaning at the stupidity of talking to himself.  
  
“Uhm,” a voice interrupted, startling the Duke enough to have him stand up in a hurry, “My Lord? Are you alright?”  
  
Yifan raised his eyebrow almost unnoticeably at Ah Mei’s timid voice before managing a smile in return, “Of course, just needed a breath of fresh air.” He took a step forward and cleared his throat as he gestured back towards the dining room.  
  
Rather than follow Yifan’s lead, Ah Mei headed gracefully to a stone stool that sat next to the one the Duke had just vacated. “A good wife shares her husband’s burdens,” she said simply, a subtle invitation for Yifan to voice his worries to her.  
  
The Duke swallowed hard, _That’s right, she’s your_ fiancée _now, Yifan._ His jaw clenched momentarily before he sighed and took his seat once more. “I’m not sure if it’s something to be shared, though,” he started uneasily; how was he supposed to talk to his _fiancée_ about spending the majority of their engagement party thinking about someone else.  
  
Ah Mei remained silent, expression soft with her hands resting on top of each other in her lap. The Duke raised his eyebrow slightly, waiting for a response, and when she didn’t offer a reply, he opened his mouth just to fill the silence, staring at the roofing of the dining room. “I mean, I’m not sure there’s even anything _to_ share.” He turned back to await a response again, only to see the same gentle look again, waiting expectantly. He sighed long, hand reaching up to scratch idly at his neck, “Well, there’s this… uhm… problem with… uhm… one of the… uh… shop owners in the city,” he stammered, as he fumbled with a reasonable situation that he could analogize. “He’s… stubborn, to put it nicely. His… business isn’t going so well, and I want to help. I thought we were getting along fine, but then he skipped out on one of our… er meetings, and when I went to ask him about it, he was acting all… weird.”  
  
“Weird?” Ah Mei piped up finally; Yifan had almost forgotten that she was there, having been directing his speech at the ground.  
  
“He was acting… differently,” Yifan paused, recalling the overly giddy way Lay had greeted him this afternoon, a sickeningly sweet tone that had unsettled the Duke, especially off-putting when it had devolved to that desperation when he’d asked Yifan to leave. “I just want to help,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut until images of the angry streaks of red painted the insides of his lids. “But he keeps pushing me away.”  
  
Crickets filled the night air as the Yifan’s attention turned back to the doors that led to the dining room with a sigh; the Duke should really not leave his guests alone for so long. _Especially the General_ , he mused to himself as he started to get up again, _he’s such an obnoxious drunk._ “We should probably head back inside before they start wondering where we are.”  
  
“This… shop owner,” Ah Mei started, making Yifan nearly trip on his first step, “Who is he?”  
  
“P-Pardon?” the Duke asked as he steadied himself and turned around to address his fiancée.  
  
Ah Mei didn’t answer immediately, taking her time to stand up and straighten her dress before looking up gently, “Who is he? To you I mean.”  
  
“To me..?” Yifan repeated dimly.  
  
“He’s important, right?” Ah Mei continued, eyebrows lifting encouragingly before settling again as she smiled, “You should let him know.” She bowed slightly before starting towards the dining room ahead of Yifan. “I shall let father know that you are feeling tired from a long day’s work and that you’ve turned in early for the night,” she added simply without turning, “Take care and return safely.”  
  
The Duke stared, slightly bewildered, at Ah Mei’s retreating figure until he figured out when she was suggesting. Yifan hadn’t skipped official dinners since he’d been a boy who had always feigned sickness when his mother had announced an important official would be visiting.  
  
He continued to watch as Ah Mei closed the folding doors before tucking his hands in their opposite sleeves, pacing the length of the garden several times. It was certainly irresponsible to simply _leave_ in the middle of a dinner with his future father in law, but he still had so many questions for Lay. _Besides_ , he reasoned with himself, _it would be strange for me to go back after Ah Mei had already announced I was turning in early for the night_.  
  
There was a rattle of the door panels once more and Yifan hurried out of sight behind a wall, taking a deep breath before making the decision to follow Ah Mei’s advice.  
  
…  
  
Yixing flicked one of the pearls that hung off the hair ornament he held in the other hand, legs crossed and leaning forwards into his vanity dressed in his night gown, the flame of a candle flickering on the table beside him. With a scowl, he pulled open the top drawer and threw it into the pile, wondering why he cared to wonder how the Duke’s engagement party was going. He should be happy, really, he wouldn’t have to deal with unexpected drop-ins from him anymore.  
  
He barely heard the knock before his room door opened and he nearly fell off his chair in alarm.  
  
“Hi,” the Duke greeted, his shoulders rising irregularly as he stepped into the room uneasily; had he been running? Yixing almost laughed at the idea of the Duke _running_ ; royalty was never in a rush to get anywhere because they were never late, everyone else was just early.  
  
Instead of returning the greeting, Yixing only stared in disbelief, keeping his hands at his side, trying not to fidget with the cloth of his dress.  
  
“Aren’t you going to ask me to sit down?” the Duke asked, good humour on his lips even as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
Yixing only continued to stare, his fingers starting to clench into a fist. “What are you doing here?” he asked, though even he could barely even hear himself. He cleared his throat, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in his throat apprehensively. “What are you doing here?” he tried again, hoping the Duke couldn’t hear the nervous crack in his voice.  
  
The Duke returned with a confused look, chest slowly falling into even breathing again, “I told you I’d come back, didn’t I?” he asked, as though answering the obvious.  
  
Yixing felt his jaw clench and his fingernails dig stingingly into his palm. Yes, the Duke said that this afternoon, but he wasn’t supposed to actually _follow through_. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a party or something?” he heard himself asking, through gritted teeth; he didn’t mean for his words to come out so curt and choppy, he hadn’t meant to ask it at all.  
  
The Duke shrugged nonchalantly, suddenly looking away from Yixing as he went to take a seat at the table in the middle of the room, suddenly taking an interest in the patterns on the surface. “Well, I’m not,” he answered flatly, eyebrows furrowing together in an unreadable expression.  
  
“Why are you here?”  Yixing tried again, hesitating before his volume dropped to a whisper, voice shaking with every syllable. “With me, I mean.”  
  
The Duke looked up, startled with his surprise written plain in his wide eyes and lips hanging open for a moment before they pressed into a thin line. Yixing waited for an explanation; _any explanation would do_. Instead, the Duke’s gaze broke away from Yixing’s as it shifted down. Yixing shifted uneasily, feeling exposed as he crossed his arms in front of him.  
  
“You never answered me about your wrist when I stopped by this afternoon.”  
  
All the muscles in Yixing’s body tensed at the mention of his wrist again, “I thought I told you that it wasn’t any of your business,” he snapped, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. He dropped his gaze instantly at the realisation, arms untangling as he fumbled to pull at his sleeves.  
  
Yixing heard the Duke sigh heavily before there was a creak of the chair as the Duke got up. His hand tightened around his wrist as he took a step back, chancing a glance through his fringe to see the Duke taking careful steps towards him. Yixing’s eyes flickered towards the door before he realised that he was too far away from it.  
  
The Duke stopped inches from Yixing, who had to lean back, head turned to the side, vehemently avoiding looking up at the Duke even as the latter reached out towards him. Yixing couldn’t help the flinch even though he barely felt the gentle graze of the Duke’s finger against his skin as a strand of hair was tucked behind his ear.  
  
“You can tell me,” the Duke whispered, fingers lingering on Yixing’s neck and thumb tracing soft circles on his cheek.  
  
Yixing’s jaw clenched just before he reached his own hand to knock the Duke’s away and then hating that the Duke was stronger than himself, grabbing his arm and holding it steady as he drew up Yixing’s sleeve past the elbow. The Duke’s expression fell as he traced the pink lines with his free hand, his hand shaky as it hovered over the arm and Yixing struggled to draw back to himself. “Who did this to you?” the Duke whispered; Yixing wasn’t sure if he was just imagining the underlying anger in the quiet but steady tone.  
  
The courtesan twisted his arm back in forth, but only succeeded in drawing pink underneath the Duke’s hold. “I can do whatever I want,” he bit out, “It’s _my_ body.”   
  
The Duke’s grip suddenly loosened and his eyebrows shot into his forehead as his gaze snapped up. “What?” he asked, barely audible even in the silent room.  
  
Yixing took the opportunity of the Duke’s distraction to take his arm back to himself, hastily drawing the sleeves down again, only noticing the tears when they stained his sleeve dark. He hadn’t even realised that his vision had started to blur.  
  
“It’s _my_ body. I get to control what happens to it,” he repeated to himself through clenched teeth. “ _Me_.”


	16. Chapter 16

Yifan’s hand stayed suspended in midair as his mind went blank, watching with furrowed brows as the waterfall spilled from the courtesan’s eyes.  
  
 _I can do whatever I want, it’s_ my _body._  
  
The line echoed through Yifan’s head endlessly as he continued to stare at the way Lay pushed at the wet streaks on his face with his palms and then trying to dry them off on his dress, face down the whole time. Yifan frowned; he didn’t like that Lay was purposely avoiding his eye. “Hey,” he whispered, barely audible even to himself. He swallowed hard against the uncomfortable lump in his throat before trying again, this time finally moving his suspended hand, fingers under Lay’s chin to draw it upwards. “ _Hey,_ ” he tried again with more emphasis, trying to get Lay to look at him to no avail.  
  
“I’ve told you before,” Yifan continued before hesitating a brief moment, “I don’t think you believed me though, but it’s true. You’re beautiful, Lay.”  
  
The corners of Lay’s lips quirked upwards in a half chuckle that chilled Yifan. “Right,” Lay whispered under his breath, trying to pull away from Yifan’s touch again only to be met with firm resistance.  
  
“I’m _serious_ ,” Yifan argued quietly, remembering Ah Mei’s advice before she sent him off. _‘He’s important, right?’_ A muscle tensed in his jaw as he contemplated the question; of course Lay was important, wasn’t that why he was here in the first place? _‘You should let him know.’_ He felt his teeth grind together painfully as he watched Lay chew on his bottom lip and taking deep breaths as though trying to calm himself. “I…” he started uneasily, frowning when Lay didn’t seem to hear him, shaking his head to himself, rolling his eyes as he continued to resist making eye contact with Yifan. “I think…” the Duke hesitated, “I think… that you’re perfect exactly the way you are,” he finally managed, his thumb reaching up to trace against Lay’s soft lips.  
  
The Duke’s gaze flickered up to find Lay finally done with avoiding his eye, but Yifan was having a hard time reading the unease there. “You. Are absolutely _perfect_ ,” Yifan reiterated firmly. “And don’t you let anyone else tell you otherwise.”  
  
Lay managed to stare back at Yifan for a long beat before blinking away with a derisive scoff, “Are you quite done yet? If you are, you can leave now.”  
  
Yifan’s hand dropped to his side once more and he let out a long sigh, “You still think it’s just lip service.”  
  
The Duke almost flinched at the hard look in Lay’s eyes as the latter stepped backwards before raising his hand to point at the door. “Leave,” he repeated, voice flat and unyielding. “If you aren’t a paying customer, please remove yourself from my room.”  
  
Yifan flinched at the curt tone even as his own patience was wearing thin, “Why is it always about money with you? Can’t we just have a _normal_ conversation like _normal_ people? I’m _not_ leaving.”  
  
Lay’s eyes narrowed to slits as he stood frozen in place, hand still pointing towards the door. It was another long beat before he drew in a slow breath as if to calm himself. “You want to stay here? Fine. Then _I’ll_ go,” he announced before spinning on his heel and hurrying towards the door, disappearing through it before Yifan could gather his bearings to go after him.  
  
…  
  
Yixing made a mad rush for Lu Han’s room at the end of the hall, hardly bothering to turn around even as he heard the sound of his own room door opening again. He slid Lu Han’s door closed softly, pressing his ear against it, breath catching in his throat as he listened to his name repeated in the Duke’s voice.  
  
“Lay? Where’d you go? Let’s just talk, okay?”  
  
Yixing only let himself breathe again when the Duke’s voice started to carry _away_ from Lu Han’s room. “Right,” he snorted derisively as he pulled away from the door. “You mean like _normal_ people, right?” he whispered under his breath, teeth clenched as he took a seat on the cold, hard floor. Yixing scowled to himself in the dark; what did a _duke_ know about having _normal_ conversations anyway?  
  
Lu Han’s soft breathing filled the otherwise silent room; the boy had barely stirred from his sleep when Yixing had barged in, pulling his blanket to his chin as he let out a soft moan before settling into steady slumber once more. Yixing let out an involuntary sigh as he watched the boy’s chest rise and fall slowly, contemplating the word _normal_ in his head. How could the Duke use such a word between them? The Duke was far from normal, being of royalty and living a live so _… not_ normal. And Yixing… well, Yixing could hardly classify himself as normal; Lu Han was more normal than any part of Yixing’s or the Duke’s lives could be.  
  
The courtesan got up only long enough to make his way to where Lu Han lay asleep, kneeling beside the bed and reaching out to stroke away the mess of hair that sat in complete disarray on the boy’s head. “I’m sorry, Xiao Lu. I know I promised I’d get us a real home soon, but I just keep letting you down,” he whispered out loud, even though he knew his audience couldn’t hear him. He sighed again, folding his arms on the side of the bed before resting his head on them. “But it’s not like the Duke was ever going to be a possibility anyway, right?” he continued with a mumble to deaf ears, yawning before his eyes fluttered closed, “So, no loss there, I guess.”  
  
*  
  
Yixing woke with a start in the middle of the night, taking a moment to gather his bearings before he remembered that he wasn’t in his own room. He got to his feet with a little trouble seeing in the dark, leaning over quickly to give Lu Han a kiss on the forehead before tiptoeing out of the room with a hush apology for intruding, though the boy was still too fast asleep to hear.  
  
 _The Star_ was deathly quiet; Yixing couldn’t recall the last time he’d been awake at this hour to enjoy the silence. He stood in the dark a moment to let his eyes adjust before he made his way back to his own room, guided by the candles still flickering from behind his own room doors.  
  
Once inside his own room again, Yixing’s first instinct was to head straight for his bed; he was still yawning and he could barely keep his eyes open. Still half asleep from Lu Han’s room, he made his usual rounds to blow out the candles, keeping a single one in a handheld tray to light his way to his bed.  
  
Yixing nearly dropped the candle in alarm at the figure lying across his bed and he had to bite his bottom lip from screaming out loud as melted wax splattered at his feet. Eyebrows stitched together, the courtesan leaned over the edge of his bed in investigate, jaw clenching when he recognized the Duke passed out in that uncomfortable position. His legs, bent at the knee, still hung over the edge of the bed and torso halfway between being on his side and on his back. One arm lay at an awkward angle beside him and the other across his chest.  
  
 _Did he fall asleep waiting for me to come back?_  
  
Yixing shook the impossible idea from his head, ignoring the tiny warmth creeping into his chest and forcing the corners of his mouth back down; the Duke was probably just tired from a long day of whatever it was that duke’s needed to do.  
  
 _Tired to entertaining guests at his engagement party, maybe? Or were you perhaps hoping that he was trying to get away from his engagement party because he wanted to come see you instead of his own fiancé?_  
  
“Shut up!” he groaned out loud to himself, almost slamming down the candle tray on the bedside table, a clatter ringing through the room.  
  
The Duke stirred from the ruckus, rolling onto his back fully and letting out a soft sigh as his head rolled over to the other side, now facing the owner of the bed he was laying in. Yixing swallowed over the uncomfortable lump that had suddenly made itself home in his throat, watching the flame of the candle next to him cast flickering shadows over the Duke’s eyelids, the tip of his nose, his rosy cheeks, his half parted lips.  
  
The Duke might be cold; maybe Yixing should get a blanket.  
  
As if on cue, a shiver ran through the Duke’s body, sending Yixing towards his dresser. The courtesan stopped just as his fingertips touched the cold metal handle; if the Duke woke up to find that someone had covered him up in the middle of the night, he’d know it was Yixing. He’d think Yixing cared about whether he was cold at night.  
  
But Yixing _didn’t_ care.  
  
 _But it’s rude to leave a patron uncomfortable like this._  
  
The muscles in his jaw clenched tightly as his teeth ground together. _He’ll know it was you, though._  
  
Yixing scowled and dropped his hand to his side, fingers curled into a painful fist. _Whatever. Who cares. He’s the one who decided to fall asleep like that in the first place. He can freeze to death for all I care._ He turned sharply on his heel and headed for the door once more, not bothering to keep his footsteps quiet or to close the door quietly behind him, letting it fall closed with a bang.  
  
Using his hands to confirm his location most of the way, Yixing headed downstairs to the main floor, making a bee line straight to where _The Star_ kept its wine stores; the alcohol would shut up the annoying voices in his head. He grabbed the nearest bottle off its shelf before wandering out the back door and taking a seat at the marble table in the center.  
  
Yixing squinted at one of the quartet of ceramic cups sitting in the middle of the table, wondering when they were last washed but ended up shrugging and using his sleeve to give it a quick wipe down before he popped the wine bottle open and poured himself a cup. He stared at the quivering surface of the fiery liquid reflecting the full moon in the clear sky above before scowling at the reminder that he had yet to get back into Lady Pearl’s good graces. A muscle clenched uncomfortably in his jaw and he slammed the cup back down onto the table the, impact harder than Yixing had expected and shattering the ceramic. The courtesan cursed out loud as the alcohol burned into the cut on his palm, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out louder as he reached for the handkerchief in his belt to wrap the wound.  
  
The knot in his stomach and the annoying pinching in his chest seemed to subside a little at his outburst and Yixing took a deep breath to calm himself before reaching out his good hand to fill another of the cups. The fiery liquid made it to his lips this time and Yixing’s face contorted unwillingly at the burn in his throat, though welcoming it over the throbbing in his hand.  
  
“Damn you, _Duke_ ,” Yixing muttered to himself, spitting out the last word like it was poison as he poured another serving, throwing it back with just as much ease as the first.  
  
“I told you to leave me alone.” A third shot.  
  
“Life would’ve been so much easier if I’d never met you.” A fourth.  
  
“And maybe I’d have found someone nice enough to take me in by now.” A fifth.  
  
“And you would go on about your own stupid life and marry that wonderful girl.” A sixth.  
  
Yixing sighed as he sank his head to the table, cheek resting against the cold marble as he stared blankly at the handkerchief tied around his hand, a deep crimson colouring the linen.  
  
 “And I could’ve just been happier without knowing you.” Lead slipped into his eyelids as they drew closed slowly.  
  
“Yeah, happier,” he slurred before sleep finally took over once more, handing sliding from the table and the cup in his fingers falling to the ground and rolling away.


	17. Chapter 17

Yifan woke to a sore back, cringing as he pulled himself upright; when had he laid down? With a yawn, he drew to his feet, searching the room as he continued to stretch out his back; there was still no sign of Lay. Finally resigned to defeat, he let out a sigh and made his way to the door with the dim light of sunrise. He made it halfway down the steps to the first floor before he noticed the open back door and a peek of pale blue and pink. He cocked his head to the side, curiosity piquing as his eyebrows stitched together. “Lay…?” he whispered to himself as he stopped four steps from the bottom, leaning sideways over the banister to peak out past the slightly ajar door.  
  
“Lay?” the Duke called again to no response once more. He descended the last steps slowly before  crossing the rest of the way to the door, pushing it open slowly as he took in the view before him. He walked up to crouch in front of the sleeping courtesan, frowning when he noticed the stench of alcohol on Lay’s breath. “What are you doing out here like this?” he asked out loud, even though he hardly expected an answer. He sighed as he shook his head, dropping his gaze downwards as he followed Lay’s limp arm, stopping when he saw the poorly knotted handkerchief around his hand. Yifan scoffed, an upward quirk forming at the edge of his mouth even as he shook his head in dismay, “How am I supposed to just leave you alone when I can’t even trust you to take care of yourself?”  
  
Yifan drew up a chair beside Lay, setting it down quietly before taking Lay’s wounded hand gingerly in his own. “How long have you been passed out like this?” he started, wondering when he decided it was appropriate to hold a one sided conversation with a courtesan who was passed out after running out on Yifan. He cleared his throat as he studied the red on the cloth, undoing the knot carefully, “You need to stop hurting yourself, okay?” His finger traced the streaks of red, dried against pale skin. The Duke turned to the wine bottle on the table and reached into his belt for his own handkerchief. “This is probably going to sting a little,” he announced to no one, hesitating even as he tipped the wine bottle over a corner of the cloth; maybe Lay would be passed out enough not to feel it. “I’ll be as quick as possible, okay?”  
  
Yifan exhaled long before he started to clean the palm of Lay’s hand, glancing up every so often to check; the courtesan stirred just the one time, fingers twitching slightly before he settled back into stillness with a quiet groan. As deftly as he could, Yifan secured the handkerchief with a knot, fingers lingering over the cloth as he replaced Lay’s hand onto the table.  
  
The Duke crossed his arms on his chest, head tilted to one side as he watched the courtesan sleep, a single strand of hair blowing back and forth from his steady breathing. His eyes drifted back to the table and a frown broke the smile before it when he noticed one of the wine cups, shattered with traces of red on their sharp edges. Yifan glanced back to Lay’s hand, brow creasing as he wondered what made the latter break the cup; it seemed highly improbably with the courtesan’s injury and the way the broken cup rested that this had been an accident. Yifan’s focus lowered once more to the ground when he located the cup Lay must’ve been using, lying on its side with a small dribble of liquid still in it.  
  
Yifan leaned over to pick up the dropped goblet, halfway upright again when he was interrupted by a voice that sounded more startled than he felt.  
  
“Oh! Your Grace! I wasn’t aware that you… uh…” Lady Pearl fumbled, trying to straighten out her looks, eyebrows stitched together in confusion; _The Star_ had strict rules about overnight stays and technically, Yifan was in violation of them.  
  
Yifan cleared his throat as he got to his feet, “My apologies, Lady Pearl. I was simply feeling troubled this morning and sought to talk it out with Miss Lay here. He was kind enough to let me in this morning. Please don’t blame him for this, I was quite stubborn.” He glanced backwards for a moment before continuing in an apologetic tone, “I never realized how much of a lightweight Lay was. I shall send someone to pay for the trouble I’ve caused you both, as well as the bottle of wine.” Lady Pearl still seemed to be half asleep, peering around Yifan with a bewildered look as she took in the state of Lay. “Uh, and the cup as well,” Yifan offered as an afterthought, trying to get Lady’s Pearl’s attention back to himself and away from the complete dishevelment of Lay. “I’m terribly sorry for intruding so early; I shall take my leave now,” he apologized again, dipping his chin slightly before he started to leave, a frazzled Lady Pearl hurrying to escort him to the exit.  
  
*  
  
Minseok was waiting when Yifan approached the gate to his home, former shooting dangerous daggers at latter with his bloodshot eyes. Yifan thanked the manservant silently to himself for sparing the duke any comment about his arrival or his disappearance the previous night, feeling guilt for how sleep deprived Minseok looked. Golden rays peeped over the ceramic roofing as the pair moved in silence towards the main building, Minseok finally speaking up as they neared the terrace that led to the duke’s room on the left and the sitting room on the right. “Your mother is waiting for you,” he announced sharply as he gestured to the right, “And if I were you, I’d start working on a pretty damn good excuse for last night’s disappearing act,” he suggested, hardly bothering to conceal the irritation in his voice before he motioning for another servant to take his place behind Yifan before he disappeared.  
  
Yifan swallowed remorse that tasted like bile before turning to the replacement, “He’ll forgive me eventually, right?” he asked, though hardly expecting an answer from the man staring at his toes, the typical image of so many of the workers in the duke’s home who desperately kept from meeting Yifan’s eyes for fear of offending him. Only Minseok ever dared to hold a normal conversation with the duke and Yifan sighed long as he wondered how many days it would be before his best friend would return to his side.  
  
“Where the hell have you been?” were the first words to touch Yifan’s ears as the doors opened to the sitting room, his mother sitting at the head of the room where _he_ usually sat at gatherings. Yifan bit his tongue, recognizing only the beginning of a long tirade as his mother lectured him. She made a dismissive motion towards her handmaidens and Minseok’s replacement, waiting until it was only Yifan and herself left in the room before she got up on her feet slowly. Yifan swallowed unconsciously; it was always the calm he feared of his mother and she looked especially imposing now, standing on the raised platform where his chair sat.  
  
“Leaving in the middle of your own party. Not telling anyone where you were going. Leaving poor Ah Mei – whom, I might remind you, is your _fiancé_ –  alone to entertain _your_ court. Not coming home until the wee hours of the next morning. _What were you thinking?_  
  
“Did you honestly think that you could fool your _mother_? Do you believe me so foolish not to recognize a blatant lie from my own son? ‘ _Tired from work’_? Did you not think I would see right through it? What on earth was so important that you had to coerce that innocent girl to _lie for you_?”  
  
Yifan bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from correcting his mother; he deserved this, it was _his_ fault for leaving last night, not Ah Mei’s.  
  
“What was so important you couldn’t even tell Minseok? What if something had happened? How were any of you supposed to know where the hell you’d disappeared off to?”  
  
The duke couldn’t control his tongue, the muscle moving of its own mind even as he tried to swallow the words before they came tumbling out, “Zitao always does it.” Yifan regretted the words even before he was done, wanting to shout an apology, to take it back as a grave eyebrow raised into his mother’s forehead slowly before  her eyes narrowed sharply.  
  
“You are _not_ that boisterous waste of space,” his mother started, volume climbing with every word, enunciated so strongly that Yifan felt each syllable pierce through him, “Huang Zitao was not brought up to be the proper duke of this city. He is not the respectable son that I brought up for twenty four years and he is definitely not responsible enough to carry the Imperial Family’s name as you do. You’d do well not to look to him for any kind of character guidance.” The duke’s mother must have noticed the almost indiscernible flinch from her son because her tone suddenly softened, sighing as she stepped down and approached Yifan.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she tried instead, “I didn’t mean that. Your cousin isn’t a waste of space. But I meant what I said about you having responsibilities that he doesn’t. You need to think about your title and what it means to the people of your city.” Yifan’s eyes dropped from his mother’s and she placed a comforting hand on his cheek, whispering gently, “You’ve been acting strange lately. Is something wrong?”  
  
Yifan searched his mind for an answer, only coming up with an image of the first time he watched Lay perform, smiling as his feet danced in time to the music, quickly replaced with the red and pink across the courtesan’s arm, smile now a thin line.  
  
The duke pressed his face into his mother’s touch, then leaning forward until he could rest his chin on his mother’s shoulder, arms reaching around her, aching for her warmth; he hadn’t hugged his mother like this in a decade.  
  
“I don’t know, Mom,” he answered truthfully, squeezing his eyes shut, “ _I really don’t know.”_  
  
…  
  
  
  
“Oy! Get up! How long do you intend to be passed out there?!”  
  
  
  
Yixing woke up groggy, a headache forming between his temples and a vaguely familiar voice yelling at him. He reached for his neck, sore from sleeping on the table in _The Star_ ’s backyard. He pressed his thumbs into his eyes with a groan; how long had he been out?  
  
“Hey, you gunna just sit around all day or are you actually going to move your ass? We’re opening soon.”  
  
Yixing spun around towards the voice, biting back comment when he recognized one of the older girls who had never liked him.  
  
“Thinks he can get away with murder just cus Lady Pearl likes him,” she whispered under her breath as she spun on her heel and left with a saunter, not missing the opportunity to shoot Yixing a parting scowl of her plain disgust.  
  
Yixing sighed as he lowered his hands. He was on his feet and halfway to the back door before he stopped in sudden realization. He brought his right hand back up brusquely, a single eyebrow climbing into his forehead as he studied the cloth that bound the wound in his palm. The courtesan most certainly did _not_ tie such a tidy knot in his confused belligerence last night. And he was also certain that he did not own anything so ornately threaded. He reached his other hand to work at untying the cloth from around his hand, jaw dropping slightly at how clean the tiny cuts in his palm looked.  
  
The courtesan wasn’t quite sure what to expect when he started to inspect the handkerchief he’d just removed; vibrant colours stitched into a design Yixing couldn’t recognized, dotted with red that matched the slight lines on his hand. Three words in emerald green made home the bottom right corner of the cloth: _Wu Yi Fan_.  
  
Yixing rubbed at the headache that grew louder as he tried to recall why the name sounded familiar. tTe voice of Lady Pearl crept into his head, _‘Duke Wu will be holding his engagement party at his home tomorrow.’_ The courtesan’s eyes narrowed to focus as the voice of the name’s owner introduced himself in echo of their first encounter.  
  
Fingers moved to pinch at the bridge of his nose as Yixing closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember when he’d received the Duke’s handkerchief but came up empty; by all accounts, he’d passed out after too many drinks in succession after he’d found the Duke sleeping in his bed. Yixing let out another groan as he urged his legs to move him back to his room, starting sluggish before he picked up his pace until he was back in his room. His back rested against his door as he slid to the floor, holding the handkerchief up in front of himself in contemplation once more. A smile started to creep over Yixing’s features until he noticed it. Clearing his throat and pursing his lips in response, he pulled himself back to his feet and started towards his vanity, his focus on the top drawer handle before he flung it open. He threw the handkerchief to join the other countless gifts he’d received from patrons before slamming the drawer once more. He fell into his seat with an angered huff, elbows resting on the vanity top before he dropped his head into his hands, muffling his scream by biting his lip until he felt the skin break.  
  
Yixing stayed in the position for a moment before one arm dropped from formation and reached a shakey hand to the drawer again, pulling it open slowly, then hovering over its contents. He eyed the discarded handkerchief with a clenched jaw before he picked it up once more, folding it into quarters before he delved into the drawer for the last items from the Duke he’d thrown in with haste; the key to that strange house and the pearled hair ornament. He placed both on top of the cloth he held and folded them gently into his good hand as he closed his eyes with a sigh, pressing his fist into his chest and urging the ache there to dissipate.


	18. Chapter 18

Yifan slouched into his seat, vacated only minutes ago when the duke had hugged his mother. _Wait here_ , she’d ordered, explaining how she’d convinced the general to have breakfast together before they were to go home. _A chance to repair relations._  
  
The Duke didn’t know what relations needed repairing but he didn’t object; he’d upset enough people already and he didn’t need to add the General to the list. When his mother left him alone to reflect on his actions, the same servant that Minseok had pointed to outside to take his place entered, drawing a defeated sigh from Yifan as he imagined what it might take for his favourite manservant to forgive him. He glowered a moment at the replacement, realizing that his mother meant for the servant to keep an eye on the Duke and keep him from running out again.  
  
It was a while before a stream of sunlight streamed through the window and a second servant came in to whisper something to the first. Yifan followed the servant’s gestures out the door and towards the breakfast room where he found the General in surprisingly good spirits; Yifan had seen how much wine the General had been drinking and that had been before the Duke had escaped the party.  
  
“Are you feeling better, then?” the General asked with a smile when he’d stood up straight from his bow.  
  
“Better?” Yifan slipped, before recalling that he’d cited being tired from work as his excuse to leave the party last night. He cleared his throat with a glance at Ah Mei who raised an eyebrow subtly in encouragement. “Ah, yes. Much better. Just needed a good night’s sleep is all.”  
  
The General nodded with understanding, holding his hands behind him as he continued. “Of course. It was just a shame that you had to miss such a lovely party last night.”  
  
Realising that everyone was waiting for the Duke, Yifan took a seat and gestured for his guests to follow suit. Silence fell over the table for a moment before the Duke’s mother’s arrival was announced. Yifan stood up abruptly to pull her seat out for her, earning him a weary roll of the eyes that made him grin; at least his mother had calmed down enough to bother rolling her eyes at him.  
  
Breakfast was filled with the usual pleasantries and Yifan spent much of it with a polite smile as he waited for his mom to inevitably suggest that she and the General give Yifan and Ah Mei some private time. The Duke turned to his fiancé with the same polite smile he’d worn through bites of rice and vegetables, asking if she’d like to take a walk with him, “It’s pretty nice out. And that way, my mother and your father can stay here to chat if they’d like.”  
  
Ah Mei nodded in agreement, getting to her feet and gesturing subtly to her father who waved her off with a smile, “Take your time, Daughter. The Duke’s Mother and I shall wait for you here.”  
  
*  
  
Yifan waited until the same gazebo where they had first chatted so many nights ago before he stopped, turning around to his servants to give them space for a private  conversation. “I’m terribly sorry for last night,” he spilled as soon as Ah Mei was seated across from him at the marble table set.  
  
Ah Mei smiled gently as she straightened her sleeves with a quiet and indifferent hum, “I was the one to suggest your departure. Please do not apologize,” she started before hesitating a moment, “But, if I may be so bold to ask, how was your venture with the shop keeper?”  
  
Ah Mei’s voice was politely curious, but Yifan could detect a slight spark in her eyes and he furrowed his brow in suspect of what she might be thinking. He shrugged dismissively, “It was alright,” he deflected, keen on turning the conversation off himself.  
  
“So you managed to tell your shopkeeper how important he is to you?”  
  
Yifan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, “Why are you so interested in this topic?” he asked, hoping his tone didn’t give away his discomfort; he was sure his _fiancé_ wasn’t the person he should be talking to about the courtesan with a cut on his hand.  
  
Ah Mei contemplated the question for a moment, “Your Grace should be able to speak comfortably with me, since we are to be wed, even if Your Grace is…” The rest of the sentence trailed into nothing as lines creased into her forehead.  
  
The eyebrows on Yifan’s face remained raised as he pondered what the end of her thought had been, wondering if she knew something about what he himself wasn’t even sure about.  
  
“Could I ask for a favour?” Ah Mei piped up again, voice almost a whisper.  
  
“Oh?” Yifan let slip unconsciously; he was surprised at the request, trying to recall when anyone had last dared to ask a _duke_ for a favour.  
  
“I mean, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but there was just something I wanted to check…”  
  
Yifan couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the strange request but obliged anyway, “Of course I suppose. What can I do to hel-?” His eyebrows shot up into his forehead as the end of his question was cut off by a pair of soft lips on his own. Ah Mei’s kiss lingered only a second before she pulled away, drawing the ‘p’ from Yifan as she stepped back, lifting a finger to her lips, red creeping into her cheeks.  
  
“Uh…” Yifan mumbled, still startled from the motion even as he took in the contemplative look on Ah Mei’s face. “That was…?” he managed to string together, incompletely.  
  
Ah Mei looked up as though she had forgotten she had company, jumping on the spot before dropping to her knees to bow apologetically. “Please forgive this humble servant of yours, my Lord! I didn’t-”  
  
The drastic change in Ah Mei’s behavior disturbed the Duke’s state of shock and he blinked a couple times before he hurried to bring his fiancé back to her feet. “Please don’t apologize! I’m not mad, I was just… alarmed is all. Please get up, it would be most unfortunate to get such a beautiful dress dirty. And how would I explain it to your father?” He added with a half chuckle to lighten the mood. When Ah Mei still averted her eyes as she took a seat once more, Yifan cleared his throat, fingers clenching and then unclenching again to come up with a way to diffuse the tension. “So, uh… you were asking about that shop owner?” He paused to glance at Ah Mei, who was chewing on her bottom lip. Yifan took a deep breath, “Well, uhm. I guess uh…” he continued uneasily, not sure how to keep the conversation going.  
  
Ah Mei finally straightened up, looking up with a smile again, even if it looked a little forced. “We were, uh, talking about if you’d told him he was important to you?” she offered, ears still flushed a bright red.  
  
Yifan hesitated a moment before he answered, almost eager to take the focus of their conversation away from what has just transpired between them; how could he tell her that he felt _nothing_ from the kiss of his _fiancé._ “Well,” he started uneasily, “I tried, I think. But I’m not sure it was very well received?” he finished, as though in a question as the argument of the previous night replayed in his head.  
  
“‘You tried, you think?’” Ah Mei repeated, a little incredulous for Yifan’s tastes. “What do you mean you tried? Just _tell_ him,” she amended with a tone of authority that startled the Duke; that’s twice today already.  
  
The eyebrows on Yifan’s face sore into his forehead, “I’m not sure how I can just tell him. Isn’t there some sort of way I need to ease into it?” he asked; maybe Ah Mei could just tell Yixing for him instead, since she seemed so sure of how easy it was supposed to be.  
  
Ah Mei got to her feet, stretching her arms out a little in front of her and Yifan could’ve almost sworn that she rolled her eyes slightly before nudging her head towards the main building to suggest they head back. “I know Father asked that we take our time but I’m sure he some important matters to attend to at home. Shall we?”  
  
Yifan nodded, getting up to join Ah Mei and starting towards the house once more.  
  
“Will I ever have the good fortune to meet this shop owner that means so much to you?” Ah Mei asked, tone dropping as the Duke’s servants returned to their positions behind them.  
  
Yifan missed a step, almost tripping as he hesitated before deigning to tell the truth, “Well, you’ve already met him.”  
  
Ah Mei turned up to look at Yifan with confused eyebrows sloping upwards to each other, clearly baffled by the statement.  
  
Yifan tucked his hands behind his back as he eyed the trailing servants. He leaned down towards his fiancé to whisper, “Perhaps another time then,” he smiled. Despite his initial alarm at Ah Mei’s assertiveness and self-confidence around a duke, it was refreshing to have someone who wasn’t his mother (or Minseok before he had taken to ignoring YIfan) to not tiptoe on eggshells around him.  
  
…  
  
Yixing sighed loudly as he dropped his chin into his palm, elbow resting on the bannister on the second level as the courtesan watched the candles on the first floor blow out as the focus turned to the stage; Pearl had found her new favourite. Chewing the nails on his other hand, he tried to forget the sheet he’d ripped up in anger so long ago. Dancing on that stage was supposed to be the ticket to freedom and yet here he was, back to square one. Yixing was starting to wonder if he was ever getting away from The Star.  
  
In the dimly lit building, Yixing barely noticed the figure that had appeared next to him, silent as a ghost. He let out a tiny yelp in alarm, glad that the sound coincided with the beginning of the music on stage and hoping it was enough to hide his surprise. He curtsied, though he doubted that it was noticed since the Duke hadn’t bothered to turn to face him, “Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise,” he recited, well-rehearsed from this morning when he’d promised himself to continue with business as usual, no matter what had happened previously. He straightened himself, turning to face the Duke fully, with a single hand resting on the bannister, though it was less an effort to give the Duke his full attention than an effort to avoid watching the dance that should still be his. “Perhaps you’d like a seat downstairs instead of standing up here?”  
  
The Duke shook his head, attention fixed in front of him and avoiding meeting Yixing in the eye. _Of course_ , Yixing thought to himself, _he obviously likes the new favourite much more than me. “_ Shall I send for anything, then? A bottle of wine?” he asked, wishing his tone didn’t sound so bitter.  
  
Another shake of the head, “No, nothing. I just want to stand up here with you for a while,” the Duke stated simply, stature relaxing as he leaned forwards to place his hands on the railing.  
  
Yixing could feel every uneven blemish on the bannister as his fingers tightened around it. He looked down at it to find it a hair-width away from the Duke’s and he pulled away quickly at the creeping heat. Hands balling into fists, he stuffed them under his arms to keep from fidgeting, not caring that he might look strange; it was dark and the Duke seemed to not care about paying him any attention tonight. He forced himself to turn to watch the performance below, berating himself every time his gaze started to shift to the side to catch a glimpse of the Duke, deathly still.  
  
Yixing was almost thankful for the performance music as the silence between he and the Duke was almost deafening. Yixing stood with his hands tucked away anxiously, annoyed that the Duke was cool and unfazed to Yixing’s discomfort. “As usual,” the courtesan muttered to himself as he snuck a glance again.  
  
As the performance counted down to its last moves, Yixing was sure he would never be able to unwind himself from the tension that strained through all his muscles. As the last note reverberated through the quiet hall, the Duke finally moved from his stone position. Every part of Yixing’s body protested as he turned dutifully to face the Duke, jaw clenched as he urged himself to calm down to no avail.  
  
The Duke smiled softly at Yixing, hands held behind his back once more. The courtesan’s jaw clenched as he continued to repeat calming mantras in his head, focusing his eyes on the bump on the Duke’s neck that bobbed in a swallow instead of the Duke’s bright eyes.  
  
“Could I have a moment of your time tomorrow?” the Duke whispered, barely audible over the applause downstairs.  
  
Yixing quirked an eyebrow up involuntarily. It was strange that the Duke was being so polite; since when did the Duke ask permission from a lowly courtesan like Yixing? The courtesan had never been consulted on anything the Duke had done thus far.  
  
Yixing’s gaze travelled up to the Duke’s brown eyes, glistening with anticipation that made the courtesan uneasy as he nodded slowly. He didn’t like how the smile on the Duke’s face seemed to widen just a little, eyes just a little brighter as he nodded his departure.  
  
Rather, he didn’t like how his own lips curled into a smile that he couldn’t put away.  
  
…  
  
The brisk wind that hit Yifan as he stepped out The Star was refreshing and he let out a long sigh, watching his breath cloud in the cold. He could feel his heart pounding in his head and it didn’t help that his cheeks were starting to hurt with his seemingly never ending grin.  
  
The corners of his lips dropped immediately thought when he noticed Minseok leaning on a concrete wall with a stern look across his delicate features. Yifan wondered momentarily when the other manservant he had had waiting for him outside had been replaced by Minseok. Taking a deep breath, he started towards Minseok who forwent the usual greetings, not even bothering to mask his mood and continuing to lean on the wall with his arms crossed.  
  
“I went to your room to let you know that Ah Mei, _your fiancé_ , arrived back at her home safely,” he said flatly, pausing dramatically, “But of course you weren’t there.”  
  
Yifan’s teeth ground together, falling prey to Minseok’s guilt trip. “How did you know I would be here?”  
  
Minseok only rolled his eyes, “Wild guess, I suppose,” he scowled with sarcasm thick in his voice.  
  
“Pretty good guess, then,” Yifan returned, chancing a chuckle; if Minseok was using sarcasm with him again, the manservant must have forgiven his Duke at least a little.  
  
Minseok stared back at Yifan with defeated disbelief before sighing and shaking his head, “I sincerely hope you know what you’re doing, _My Lord,_ ” he added emphatically.  
  
Yifan was too glad that Minseok was talking to him again that he let the mocking tone slide. “As do I,” Yifan replied, “But if you could, just… avoiding telling Mother about, you know…” he trailed off, motioning vaguely behind him in the direction of The Star.  
  
The manservant groaned as though he knew what Yifan was planning, “If I get beheaded for keeping secrets from your mother, I hope it happens after I get to watch her kill you first.”


	19. Chapter 19

Yixing groaned as an urgent hand shook his shoulders, “Wake _up_ , you lazy brat!”  
  
Disgruntled at the rude awakening, Yixing swatted at the hand while rubbing the lingering sleep from his eyes. “What?!” he yelled blearily before realizing who was shaking him. Scrambling to apologize to Lady Pearl, he pulled to his feet clumsily, “I’m sorry, I was just- I’m not really a morning person,” he explained, skirting away from the real reason for his short temper this morning; he’d spent the better part of his night begging for sleep to relieve him from the relentless voice in his head that tried to decipher what the Duke had meant when he’d stopped by earlier.  
  
Lady Pearl only crossed her arms with a shake of her head as Yixing combed fingers through his hair to rid it of overnight kinks. She made a disapproving click with her tongue as she continued to scowl, “I’ve never seen such a lucky unlucky bastard,” she muttered to herself, which raised a curious eyebrow from Yixing.  
  
“What?” the courtesan repeated, though this time with a significantly lower voice.  
  
Lady Pearl sighed as she gave Yixing a once-over before shaking her head again, “Never you mind. Come downstairs, there’s someone waiting downstairs for you. Don’t bother changing out of that, I doubt he’s gunna mind.”  
  
“What? Who?” Yixing flubbed as he followed after Lady Pearl, whose only response was to shake her head _yet again_ , making the courtesan wonder to himself what exactly he’d done to get on her bad side again. Mind still going over the previous day and how he might’ve upset Lady Pearl, he nearly tripped on the stairs, reaching immediately for the railing to break his fall, breathing a sigh of relief that Lady Pearl hadn’t noticed the misstep, only to have it caught in his throat as he realized who it was that had made Lady Pearl wake him so unceremoniously. “Ah, Baozi,” he exclaimed before catching himself too late, “I mean, Minseok. What can I do for you?” He corrected himself, eyes flicking around in search of the Duke, finding only his nosy fellows, whispering excitedly to each other behind their sleeves.  
  
Minseok only got to his feet with almost just as much grace as his master – Yixing found himself wondering idly if he’d ever seen the manservant seated before – and motioned for Yixing to join him at the table. Yixing chewed on his lip as he took a seat opposite Minseok, eyes flitting to Lady Pearl for any hint of why the Duke’s servant was here, _alone_ of all things.  
  
“This man has exciting news for you,” was all Lady Pearl announced before joining Yixing and Minseok at the table, excited tone doing nothing but peak Yixing’s interest further. He sneaked a look back at Minseok, seated perfectly erect, hands folded neatly on the surface in front of him and looking unnaturally tense, even for him. “What can I do for you?” he asked again, trying to fill in the silence that had fallen between the three.  
  
Minseok took a deep breath, hesitating visibly before exhaling, “The Duke has requested for your presence by his side.”  
  
Yixing resisted the urge to press for more; the last time the Duke had sent Minseok to _The Star_ in his place, Yixing had been requested to dance for a party. What exactly was it that the Duke wanted _now?_ Is that what he’d meant by requesting a “moment of his time” last night? He glanced over at Lady Pearl again to find her almost shaking with barely concealed excitement and his eyebrows stitched together in confusion; this was hardly something new that warranted such a reaction.  
  
“Permanently,” Minseok finished belatedly.  
  
Yixing stared across the table blankly until Lady Pearl nudged him in the ribs.  
  
“I…?” he muttered in alarm, jolted from the vast emptiness that had found home in his head.  
  
“She’s just in shock is all,” Lady Pearl covered for Yixing with another jab to his side.  
  
Minseok only smiled politely, focus never leaving Yixing even as he nodded with understanding, “That’s quite alright. I’m aware this might’ve come as a surprise. Please take all the time you need.”  
  
A nerve twitched around Yixing’s left eye and he caught Lady Pearl fidgeting nervously beside him, “Ah, yes, well, uhm, silly me! I forgot to offer you a drink! Just give me a moment,” she rambled before standing up abruptly.  
  
Yixing’s gaze fell idly to the clean cups in the center of the tabletop, turned upside down in an organized set of four. “Permanently?” An invisible force started tugging at the corner of his lips unwittingly as he experimented with the term on his tongue.  
  
“There is a room ready for you already at the Duke’s home. The Duke couldn’t come tell you himself because he’s gotten caught up with some things and he sent me in his stead. He apologizes for his absence.”  
  
Yixing barely heard a word that Minseok said as he continued to stare at the set of cups. Permanently. Forever. He’d be gone from _The Star_ permanently. Gone for good. _Forever._ This was what he’d been waiting for as long as he could remember, for him to leave _The Star_ and start a new life for him and Lu Han.  
  
The courtesan looked up abruptly at the thought of the boy, peering around Minseok to search the establishment, “Where’s Lu Han?” he asked out loud, though more to himself than actually expecting a reply from his audience.  
  
“Lu Han?” Minseok repeated, visibly taken back as he tried to string together what the boy had to do with the situation at hand. “What’s this have to do with that boy?”  
  
“I made a promise that if this day here ever came, I’d take him with me,” Yixing recited as he stood up and squinted up to the second floor, trying to ignore the fervent whispering around him.  
  
“That… wasn’t part of the deal with Lady Pearl,” Minseok replied and Yixing swung his attention wholly on the manservant with a hard swallow, realizing that his dream had been so unachievable, he never sat down to think if he would be _allowed_ to take Lu Han with him when the time came. “We can come back for him at a later time.”  
  
Yixing’s fingers clenched into fists at his side, “I’m not leaving without him,” he said flatly, realizing he was taking a risk. Minseok might end up simply leaving without either of them altogether, but Yixing knew that ‘later’ always meant never.  
  
As if on cue, there was a clamoring behind him and Yixing spun around to find Lu Han barreling down the staircase, a million hands flying out after him to hold him back to no avail. “Yixing gege!” he exclaimed loudly as he hit the main level, slapping a hand over his own mouth when he realized his mistake, swallowing visibly as Yixing made his way over to him. Mouthing silently to Lu Han to keep quiet, Yixing took the boy’s hand and headed back to the table, ignoring the other girls who looked on with baited breath.  
  
“Baozi ge… are you here to take Lay jiejie away?” Lu Han asked in an almost inaudible voice, thick with worry as he turned to look up at Yixing, his tiny hands gripping the courtesan’s tightly, “Yan jiejie says you’re going to live with the Duke and leave me behind,” he continued, bottom lip trembling even as he spoke nervously.  
  
Yixing squeezed the boy’s hand in a motion to comfort but kept an unyielding gaze on Minseok, “Of course not, we stick together no matter what, remember?”  
  
Minseok returned an almost equally unyielding look before he let out a long sigh and looked down towards Lu Han, “Of course not,” he repeated with a defeated smile as he stood up to join the pair, kneeling down on one knee to meet Lu Han eye-to-eye. “How about you take these men to help Lay jiejie pack up her things?” he asked, ruffling the young boy’s hair once before motioning towards the entrance where a couple of servant lay in wait, unnoticed by Yixing during the whole exchange.  
  
A bright smile lit Lu Han’s face as though he hadn’t just been on the verge of tears, “And then can we eat together, Baozi gege?”  
  
Minseok returned a light chuckle as he waved the boy off gently, “Of course, my treat,” he added, waiting for the several men that had come with him to disappear up the stairs with Lu Han before turning to face Yixing once more.  
  
The courtesan swallowed hard, willing himself to hold the manservant’s gaze with determination, reminding the latter that he wasn’t leaving without his best friend without actually saying it again. Minseok raised an eyebrow at Yixing as though amused by his expression, “That boy is lucky to have you.”  
  
“ _I’m_ luckier to have _him_ ,” Yixing replied just as Lady Pearl returned with a waiter carrying a bottle of wine in tow. Motioning for the bottle to be placed next to the set of cups, Lady Pearl joined them at the table once more, looking between Yixing and Minseok for a moment before picking up on discord between them.  
  
“Is something the matter?” Lady Pearl asked, voice thick with concern.  
  
 _Concern for her own bottom line_ , Yixing thought to himself a little bitterly. _She couldn’t care less about Lu Han_. He didn’t bother glancing over at her to acknowledge her arrival, swallowing once more as Minseok sighed to himself, as though finally coming to a conclusion. “Please make sure that you have all your belongings; we’ll be leaving as soon as possible. I’d like to have a moment with Lady Pearl though,” the manservant added, giving Yixing a nod that made the latter finally breathe out a sigh of relief before returning the nod and excusing himself to hurry to his room, avoiding the whispers as he passed the other girls.  
  
Yixing barely acknowledged the strangers in his room as he made a beeline for the drawers by his vanity; there were few things he possessed that he would take everywhere with him and they were all in these drawers. His fingers rustled through the various items, barely registering their ornate worth as he reached deftly for the back corner, sighing with relief when he found what he’d been looking for.  
  
“Yixing gege?”  
  
Yixing turned around to find a pile of his clothes staring up at him, “Uh yes, Lu Han?” he asked, peering around the pile to get a look at the boy. “What are you doing with all those?”  
  
“Did you want to pack _all_ of these, Yixing gege?” the pile of clothes asked, Lu Han’s whine barely concealing the boy’s excitement at leaving _The Star_ for good.  
  
Before Yixing could decide which of the items he wanted to bring along with him, he was interrupted, “Just bring them all with you if you’d like,” Minseok commented, clearly having finished his conversation with Lady Pearl downstairs. Yixing could only open and close his mouth repeatedly in response when he realized he wouldn’t even know which ones he would be willing to part with anyway. Minseok’s gaze dropped down to the haphazardly folded cloth in Yixing’s clenched fist. “Shall we have that wrapped with the rest of your things as well?”  
  
Momentarily startled, Yixing recovered and grabbed the first item off the pile Lu Han was still supporting. “Uh, no. That’s okay,” he answered hurriedly, “I, uhm, please excuse me, I have to make myself presentable, uh, for the Duke,” he mumbled before bowing his departure, barely registering the ‘wait!’ Minseok called after the courtesan. Clasping the tiny package to his chest, Yixing kept his head down as he dashed from the room, ignoring the manservant’s look of wary concern as a smile threatened across Yixing’s own features.  
  
…  
  
“Ah! My favourite cousin!”  
  
Yifan cursed under his breath when the unexpected voice caused his brush to ink an ugly streak across his page. Sighing with barely concerned exasperation, he put down his brush and stood up, waving a servant to prepare some tea. “Why does it seem like you’re dropping by more often than you used to? Don’t you have important exploring to do for the emperor?” the Duke scowled. “And when are you going to remember to stop putting your feet up on my furniture,” he added as he nudge his cousin’s foot off the table for the millionth time.  
  
“Tch,” Zitao scowled playfully, “You nag too much, you’re starting to sound like Father.” He waved away the servant to pour his own glass of tea after filling Yifan’s, “Or Minseok,” he chuckled. “Where _is_ that judgmental servant of yours? Isn’t he glued to your side?”  
  
“He’s out doing something for me, not that that’s any of your business,” he muttered, “What _is_ your business here, anyway? I don’t have time to partake in your childish games.”  
  
Zitao rolled his eyes, “I’m not a child, I don’t need you to babysit me. I just need a room to stay for a couple nights,” he grinned, only to earn himself a disgruntled scowl from the Duke.  
  
“You’re aware that I don’t run a hotel, right?”  
  
“Yes, but you are a wonderful man who loves his baby cousin and wouldn’t let him go hungry and homeless, right?”  
  
Yifan couldn’t help but sneer, “First you say you’re not a child and now you’re my _baby_ cousin? You sure know how to switch sides easily when it suits your needs. And quit pouting,” he added, pinching his cousin’s lips together with irritation.  
  
Zitao swatted at his cousin’s hand as he stood up, “I’ll show myself to my room, then,” he grinned,  ignoring Yifan’s fruitless protests with a wave as he turned towards the door, “I’ll see you at lunch, beloved cousin!” he called, ducking to dodge the folded fan the Duke threw at his head.  
  
…  
  
Yixing paused at the entrance to the Duke’s home, hesitation overpowering as he looked up at the entrance’s large double doors.  
  
“Is something the matter, Miss Lay?” Minseok asked, slightly ahead of Yixing and halfway up the stairs that lead into the compound.  
  
“No, uhm, I just, er, I just need a moment, if we’re not in too much a hurry.”  
  
Minseok hummed in understanding, “Ah, it’s no problem, Miss Lay, take all the time you need,” he reassured, motioning for the rest of their party to go on ahead, “Please take Miss Lay’s belongings to her room,” he instructed, gently pulling Yixing aside and out of the main path and telling Lu Han that he and Lay would catch up shortly.  
  
Yixing watched as the servants disappeared behind the double doors, carrying his things with them. He took a deep breath as he studied the ornate designs on the entrance, as he done the first time he’d shown up at this place, though this time he wasn’t here uninvited. He swallowed nervously as he recalled the lavish interior; now that the initial excitement of finally leaving _The Star_ had worn off, worry had started to worm its way into Yixing’s head. He didn’t fit in here, the Duke was a _royal_ , for God’s sake.  
  
“What in Hell? What’s all this shit?”  
  
Startled out of his own thoughts by the vulgar language unfit for such a proper establishment, Yixing looked up to find a familiar face he couldn’t place.  
  
“Oh! It’s you!” the man exclaimed before taking a single leap down the steps to settle in front of Yixing with a wide grin, “Remember me?”  
  
Yixing blinked blankly a couple times as he stepped back a pace to put a comfortable amount of space between them, taking a long beat to finally recognize the face; _‘Good luck with the Duke, I’ll be rooting for you._  
  
Tao chuckled as realization spread across Yixing’s features, “Of course you do! Is all this yours?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. Yixing’s decline to reply only widened the grin on Tao’s face, “Ahh, my idiot cousin finally staked his claims, huh?” A chuckled erupted from him as Yixing remained quiet, though his furrowed brow betrayed his unease. “Having second thoughts?” Tao leaned in to suggest quietly so that only Yixing could hear.  
  
The courtesan stumbled back again at the sudden intimacy, deliberately turning away as his cheeks warmed, embarrassed to have been so easily read by an almost-stranger. “Of course not,” he retorted defensively, only to have Tao smile back kindly, a motion that made Yixing even more annoyed; who was this man to pretend he understood him?  
  
Tao bent over slightly to look at Yixing head on, the latter shifting uncomfortably under the gaze. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know. I would be too, if I were you. If you need anything, or if you just need to talk to someone, you can always come to me.” Tao pulled away again, shooting Yixing a wink that made the courtesan’s eyebrows stitch together with disbelief. “Tch,” Tao continued as he crossed his arms, playfulness still playing in his eyes even as he shook his head in disappointment, “It really is such a shame my cousin likes you so much. What a pretty face.” Tao paused to look at Yixing pensively, finally sighing with defeat. “Well, love to stay and chat some more, but I gotta run. We should have lunch together some time!”  
  
Yixing stared after the quickly retreating figure, dressed as unusually as when the courtesan first met him at _The Star_. His mouth opened and closed in disbelief a couple times as Tao finally disappeared around a corner. ‘ _Chat?’_ he thought to himself incredulously, _how was this one sided conversation even considered a_ chat _?_  
  
Still, the strangely dressed man’s carefree attitude seemed to rub off on Yixing as he pulled on a smile and took a step forward, Minseok in tow as he stepped through the entrance; he had to remember to thank the man for drawing away his unease, maybe he’d even take up that offer for lunch some time.


	20. Chapter 20

“Lay is all settled in, then?” Yifan asked without looking up as his servant bowed in respect on the other side of the Duke’s worktable; thanks to Zitao’s loud interruption earlier, he was behind on his books and the page of the messy ink slash was not going to rewrite itself.  
  
“Yes, My Lord, I’ve done all that you’ve asked with regards to Lay,” Minseok replied, hesitating before pressing on with a curious tone, “Will you not be visiting him yourself? I’m sure he is eager to see you to express his thanks.”  
  
Yifan froze, writing hand still gripping his brush while the other held back the sleeve.  “Perhaps later, I’m busy right now.” He pressed his brush to the page again hoping his pause was missed by his servant.  
  
Yifan was supposed to have gone himself to pick up lay, to give him the good news but at the last minute, one of his councilors fell ill, leaving a pile of paperwork to be completed before the rising of the full moon that night. Or that was what he used as his reasoning when Minseok had asked that morning why the Duke wasn’t going to _The Star_ himself. And now that Lay was under his roof, he was finding it difficult to come up with a reasonable enough explanation. _Not that a duke should have to explain his actions_ , Yifan thought inwardly, only to berate himself immediately after the thought; he didn’t want to just be a member of the royal family to Lay.  
  
Yifan finished the rest of the character before he put down his brush with a long sigh, “I’d like a moment alone, please, Minseok,” he all but whispered, dropping his forehead to knead the temples with his thumbs.  
  
“Don’t forget to come for lunch, I’m not sure I could handle Master Zitao without you,” Minseok added in an obvious last attempt to cheer the duke before bowing his exit, motioning for the others to follow suit as he shot Yifan a concerned look before sliding the doors closed on the room.  
  
Yifan sighed again as he pressed harder into his temples, eyelids squeezing tightly closed as he searched for an introduction he could present before Lay, but everything that came to mind sounded wrong, inadequate. Somehow, the excuse he used with Minseok didn’t seem enough for Lay.  
  
He really should’ve asked Zitao what to say; his cousin had always been the better of the two at talking, but Yifan had a little more pride than to ask his _younger_ cousin for advice. Growing more frustrated with every unusable explanation that crossed his mind, he got up quickly to his feet and stormed across the room, throwing the doors open in a flurry before hurrying along the stone pathway, no destination in mind, just to get some fresh air. He didn’t even bother waving off the servants that hurried to walk behind him. Stopped abruptly when he neared the South House by the sight of a familiar silhouette, Yifan found himself quickly hiding behind a tall tree, feeling his face flush slightly in realization of his error.  
  
The Duke had forgotten in his distracted haste to clear his head with a walk that the South House was where he’d assigned Minseok to get Lay settled. He cursed quietly under his breath, before standing up properly to turn to face his servants. “You’re dismissed for the time being,” he ordered when he reacquired control of his voice, ignoring the poorly concealed looks of alarm.  
  
Lay sat on one of the couple steps that lead into the room Yifan had designated, arms hanging loosely off his knees. In one hand, Lay held a flower that Yifan recognized from the garden at the gates to his home, twisting it slowly between two fingers while he chewed at fingernails on the other hand. Behind him, the Duke recognized two more of his people standing guard in silence. When Lay let out a third sigh since Yifan had arrived, the Duke finally concluded that the courtesan looked decidedly _bored_.  
  
 _Well, of course you idiot. You bring him here with no plans, what did you expect him to do?!_  
  
Yifan scowled at the voice in his head, annoyed that it was speaking the truth. Taking a deep breath – and noting that he could come up with a million lines by staying hidden behind this tree, but he’d never know what to say before he was face-to-face with Lay anyway – Yifan finally stepped out from his hiding place and made his presence known with a curt clearing of his throat (a little too forced-sounding to his liking).  
  
The Duke couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he watched Lay scramble to his feet in a rush, his dress a flurry of colours as its owner tried to straighten it out. “Y-your Grace…” he managed, head bowed and bending at the knees in respectful salutation.  
  
“Hi,” Yifan managed after acknowledging the greeting and dismissing the servants; he’d been so afraid to say the wrong thing that Yifan hadn’t even fathomed the idea of coming completely short of words. Lay looked up at the Duke curiously before he turned away quickly. “I… uh… I apologize for not coming to _The Star_ this morning myself. I take that Minseok sufficiently delivered the message in my place,” Yifan managed to string together, even though the end of his sentence sounded more like a question than a tone befitting a confident Duke.  
  
Even on the best of days, the Duke hardly enjoyed speaking to his subjects with their heads bowed, avoiding eye contact for fear of offending a Royal. Yifan dismissed it most of the time, given what his position was, but right now, he found it unbearably distant that Lay was doing the same as everyone else under his leadership. “Lay?” he prompted, feeling his knuckles go white behind him as he kept himself from simply reaching out to draw the courtesan’s chin forward.  
  
The courtesan looked up momentarily with an unreadable expression, “I…” Lay started before looking away once more.  
  
“Yes?” Yifan pressed, eager for conversation, “Is there something you’d like to say?”  
  
“I…” Lay started again, bringing his hand to chew on the nails again, “Forgive me, My Lord, but what exactly was the message that you had Minseok deliver? I’m not… I’m not sure what exactly has happened this morning, nor why… I am here…?” he trailed, eyes still looking anywhere but at Yifan.  
  
Yifan sighed to himself as he stepped forwards to take a seat on the steps, signaling for Lay to fill the place the latter had only just vacated. Lay hesitated visibly, and Yifan could see the shock the courtesan must’ve been feeling at seeing the Duke take a seat on the _ground_. “Please, join me,” he invited again, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve and spreading it on the step beside him for Lay.  
  
The Duke was stalling, he knew, because he’d hadn’t exactly figured out a plan before sending his manservant to _The Star_ this morning. He was still engaged to Ah Mei and he was more than certain that his mother, when she returned from her trip to the City, would hardly be ecstatic to find a new addition to the home she shared with her son.  
  
“Recall when I asked for a moment of your time today? Last night, I mean, I asked you last night,” he started when Lay finally took a seat.  
  
“Yes…” Lay answered slowly, sceptism across his features when he finally looked up to face Yifan properly, “I’m not sure this can be considered _‘a moment_ ’ of my time though,” he commented, humourously, but Yifan laughed anyway.  
  
“No, you’re right,” Yifan resigned; he’d originally planned to make the appointment, to take only a moment in Lay’s day to ask for the courtesan to consider joining the Duke’s court permanently, but of course, as he’d explained to Minseok, a counselor had to fall ill.  
  
 _Or you were too afraid to be rejected_.  
  
Yifan ignored the voice again and continued struggling for a proper explanation, “I…” he fumbled, “I enjoy… I like… I _really_ like spending time with you, Lay…” he paused to scratch his head contemplatively, suddenly wishing this time that Lay would look _away_ from him; he was certain he didn’t look his best with his cheeks burning like this. “I just… I hope that you can stay by my side…?”  
  
Silence fell between the couple as Yifan held Lay’s gaze, searching the latter’s eyes for any sort of affirmative response but coming up empty; the courtesan, as usual, was just as difficult as ever to read.  
  
“For… how long?” Lay finally asked quietly after an uncomfortably long beat.  
  
Yifan shrugged after a moment’s thought with an unsure smile, “I didn’t think it too long, but I suppose as long as you’ll have me.”  
  
….  
  
Yixing chewed on his nails as he waited for his answer, though he didn’t really know why he was anxious. What was he expecting, anyway?  
  
“I supposed as long as you’ll have me,” came the reply and Yixing almost choked in alarm. The Duke had phrased it like a question but Yixing knew better; this was just a nice way of saying ‘forever’. He lowered his hand from his mouth and let out a sigh, getting to his feet and taking the step up to the dais before his room. He feigned a yawn and waited but a second before the Duke stood up as well. “You’re tired from the events of this morning, aren’t you? Please, relax, take a nap. I’d like for you to join me at lunch though, if you aren’t too tired then. I’ll have Minseok come by to check on you in a bit.”  
  
Yixing couldn’t trust it, but his gut wanted to tell him that it was an almost invisible nervousness that was making the Duke somewhat twitchy as he said his goodbyes and disappeared around the corner. The courtesan let out another sigh as he slid open his doors, fingers lingering on the wooden frame as he realized that this was his door now, not the scratched up and warped frames at _The Star_ , but this smooth and waxed cherry, clearly polished regularly. He let his fingers tiptoe along the length with a melancholic smile; he supposed if he were to be trapped, he’d rather it be here than back at _The Star_.  
  
The courtesan let out a final defeated sigh before closing the doors behind him and collapsing in the bed, waiting for sleep as he shut out the voices of the girl’s he’d left behind, whispering how unfair it was that it was _Lay_ whose freedom the Duke had chosen to pay off.  
  
*  
  
Yixing spent the couple of hours before lunch staring up at the grey drapes that hung above his bed. His mind refused to shut down, cycling through innumerable scenarios for the coming days he had stuck within these walls. A soft knock at his door brought Yixing from his imagination and he drew upright at the familiar manservant’s voice. “One moment,” he called out as he slid into his shoes and tried to iron out the wrinkles in his dress with his hands on the way.  
  
Expecting the usual Minseok waiting at his door, Yixing nearly jumped out of his skin when he was instead greeted by Tao’s towering figure, “Hungry, yet? I’m starved!” he exclaimed as he turned slightly to present his elbow for Yixing to take, “Care to accompany me?”  
  
Still taken aback, Yixing’s eyebrows furrowed together for a moment as he eyed Tao warily. “What’re you…?” he started, looking back and forth from Tao’s wide grin and his extended invitation.  
  
“Doing here?” Tao finished helpfully, stepping back towards Yixing to take the latter’s hand and pulling it forward to rest neatly in the inside of his elbow. He shrugged as he started pulling away from Yixing’s room (the latter suddenly glad that he’d decided against changing out of his dress before trying to fall asleep earlier) in what Yixing could only assume was the direction of the dining room. “Asked around, found out where you were staying and decided to come over and say hi!” Tao answered, as if replying to a question that could only have that answer.  
  
“Uhm, do you… do you _live_ here?” Yixing managed when he finally fell into a comfortable pace next to Tao.  
  
“Hmm, temporarily now, I guess. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I will be stuck in this hell, right beside you.”  
  
Tao winked good-naturedly but Yixing could only return a half hearted smile; the taller’s obvious joke didn’t seem so funny now that Yixing had come to realise that he would be here _forever_. He took a deep breath to settle his chest that he hoped Tao didn’t notice and straightened his stature as he pretended to listen to Tao’s ramble about his travels.


	21. Chapter 21

Yifan paced in front of the dining table, eyeing the empty chairs with mild contempt; he’d thought he’d been clear about wanting Lay to join him for lunch. “Maybe I should have been more firm,” the Duke thought out loud to himself before shaking his head and tucking his hands in opposite sleeves as he continued to wear out the strip of floor under him. He frowned as he contemplated his own suggestion; he could never make it out like an order with Lay. He’d paid for the courtesan’s release from _The Star_ for the very opposite reason, so Lay would never be _obligated_ to do anything anymore.  
  
The Duke sighed and his legs finally stopped moving as he settled in the nearest chair and dropped his forehead into his hand. Where was Minseok? Shouldn’t he have been back with Lay by now? Maybe his plan to give Lay his choices was backfiring. Should he go check on Lay himself? No, a Duke does not go around looking for someone, that someone should be brought to him. Yes, but Lay wasn’t just _someone_. Or would that make him seem to be too aggressive?  
  
Hardly caring that his attendants were still standing within seeing and hearing distance, the Duke groaned with frustration that he was talking to himself and pushed his fingers up his temples. He dropped his forehead towards the table, swearing out loud when the marble table top came up a little faster than he had anticipated. A hand moved to rub at the throbbing spot for a moment before his cousin’s voice rang through one of the windows, followed by a familiar soft laugh that really had no place coming after Zitao’s obnoxious voice. Yifan’s hand hovered in front of him as his eyebrows stitched together in confusion, eyes turning towards the entrance in expectation.  
  
A couple of the Duke’s servants opened the dining room’s entrance to let in Yifan’s cousin, walking in backwards as he chatted with his audience: a shy Lay with his sleeve brought up to cover the obvious smile behind it. Inexplicable irritation flooded through the Duke and he scowled at the scene, clearing his throat loudly as he got to his feet.  
  
Zitao snapped around in midsentence, “Oh, didn’t see you there, cousin!”  
  
The Duke grumbled something about this being _his_ home before he noticed the wary look on Lay’s face. He cleared his throat again and motioned to the seats with a smile that he hoped didn’t seem too forced. “Please, join me,” he invited, avoiding his cousin’s infuriating goofy face as he addressed Lay directly.  
  
“Of course!” Zitao cut in wandering around the table and planting himself in the spot next to Yifan that the Duke had intended for Lay. “What’s for lunch?” he asked, turning to one of the servants and ignoring the deadly daggers shooting from Yifan’s eyes.  
  
The Duke turned his attention back to Lay who seemed decidedly set on avoiding Yifan’s gaze, making it difficult for Yifan to motion to the seat of the other side of him. Instead, Lay hurried to take the spot next to Zitao, thanking the servants that pulled his seat out and proceeding to keep his head down even as lunch came in.  
  
Yifan knew the furrow in his brow did little to hide his disappointment; Lay had always been the one to initiate conversation whenever they had been together and this sudden shyness was alarming, and unsettling. He swallowed and pressed on, “So, uhm, was Minseok with you?” he asked, once again directing his words at Lay only to have his idiot cousin cut in.  
  
“Nope, why?” Zitao answered through bites of rice and beef without bothering to look around to deliver his response.  
  
“Oh, he…” Yifan frowned as he tried not to scowl, deciding that it would only give away his impatience for Lay to join him for lunch if he answered honestly, “He was just supposed to be back by now,” he supplied instead.  
  
“Mmm,” Zitao nodded with his mouth full, uncaring as he reached across the table. Yifan’s own pair of chopsticks hung in the air between his bowl and his mouth as the Duke swallowed hard at the scene before him; his cousin picking up a piece of chicken to deposit in Lay’s bowl, rice barely touched, and the latter smiling softly as he stuttered out a quiet thanks.  
  
Yifan didn’t notice he was standing or that he had gripped his fingers so tightly together that whatever it had been that he’d picked up (Why did it matter what he was about to eat? It would’ve been unpalatable anyway.) had fallen to the table top with a messy splat across his waist band until he realized both Zitao and Lay had stopped eating to look up at him. A servant hurried to his side in an attempt to clean the stain off his clothes, giving Yifan an excuse to leave the room. He swatted at the servant’s hand and gave the couple seated before him a curt glare before making for the door. “I, uh, I forgot that I still have some things to do,” he added, without turning around, as his mother’s nagging words about being proper towards guests rang in his head.  
  
As soon as the doors closed behind him, Minseok turned the corner and proceeded to shoot the Duke a questioning look, clearly taking note of the fowl expression on the latter’s face. Yifan scowled harder at the sight of his tardy servant, “You’re late,” he snapped before pushing past Minseok and towards his bed room.  
  
It only took a moment for Minseok to dismiss the Duke’s escorting party and fall into step beside Yifan, holding his silence until Yifan spoke first, “You were supposed to bring Lay over for lunch, what the hell happened?”  
  
“Something pulled my attention away for a minute,” Minseok explained in his typical calm way, “I apologize for my failure, My Lord, but it was my understanding from the other servants that Lay made it to lunch on his own.”  
  
“‘On his own’?” Yifan snorted derisively, “As if. He showed up with Zitao, of all people,” Yifan grumbled as he turned another corner into a garden, heading for the gazebo in the center.  
  
“Of all people?” Minseok repeated as he followed his master, clearly not understanding the problem.  
  
The Duke groaned as he settled into the marble seat, “Well, you know,” he gestured, only to have the concerned lines across Minseok’s forehead draw tighter. “That _idiot_ of a cousin of mine was all _you know_..! And then _he_ was all smiley towards the idiot while he could hardly be bothered to give me the time of day!”  
  
Minseok didn’t reply immediately, even as Yifan watched him expectantly; the Duke could see slow realization slip across the servant’s face and when the latter finally breathed out a knowing ‘ahhh’, Yifan threw his hands up in frustration, still trying to erase the image from his memory.  
  
“So… if I’m getting this properly, My Lord is… jealous… of the Young Master Huang?”  
  
“What?!” Yifan snapped, having expected Minseok to agree that the behavior he’d observed at the lunch table was inappropriate, not turn around and accuse the Duke of trivial emotions like _jealousy_. “I’m not jealous. It’s just… improper the way they were acting.”  
  
“Ah, improper,” Minseok repeated, over-exaggerating the word to almost mockery, “Yes, and so you left them because they were being improper, correct?”  
  
Yifan shot a glare at his personal attendant, only to receive an amused glint in return, “What’s so funny?”  
  
 “Nothing, My Lord,” Minseok shrugged, hardly bothering to stop grinning. “So,” he continued, unfazed, “What exactly was the Young Master Huang doing with Lay that was so _improper,_ My Lord?”  
  
Instead of answering, Yifan only frowned at Minseok further, getting to his feet abruptly and heading to his room as he has intended to earlier, ignoring the chuckle that followed behind him.  
  
…  
  
Yixing tried to pay attention to the many stories of Tao’s overseas adventures, only to find that he couldn’t remember where Tao had started the current journey; he had been too busy trying not to catch the Duke’s eyes, worried about what the latter would say and how Yixing should respond. He was actually glad for the distraction of Tao, providing him an excuse to pay attention to something other than the heavy gaze of the Duke.  
  
“T-thank you,” he stuttered out, barely above a whisper, and he wondered if Tao had even heard the appreciation as he dropped the chicken in Yixing’s outstretched hands, continuing on about something on a road. Or was it a boat? Train?  
  
Yixing could feel the burning stare of the Duke on the opposite side of the table but he didn’t dare look up, keeping his head down as he poked at the rice in his bowl, pushing the piece of chicken back and forth absently. It wasn’t until there was a loud _clunk_ and a rattle of a ceramic bowl that Yixing finally jolted his head up, swallowing hard when he found the Duke on his feet, chopsticks still in hand, knuckles white with exertion.  
  
“Y-your… Gr-?” Yixing started before watching the steamed fish fall from the Duke’s chopsticks with a splatter that made Yixing cringe. _It was going to be difficult to get that stain out_ , was the first thought to cross Yixing’s mind, before realizing that it would hardly matter to a duke; he had servants to clean that, and if it was unsalvageable, the Duke could simply purchase new garments.  
  
“I, uh, I forgot that I still have some things to do,” the Duke eked out before making a dash for the exit, leaving Yixing frowning before he let out a long sigh and put down his unused chopsticks next to his equally untouched lunch. What exactly was the Duke thinking when he decided to buy Lay out of _The Star_? Why invite Yixing to lunch only to disappear abruptly?  
  
“Lunch not for your tastes?” Tao asked, putting down his own chopsticks and folding his arms on the table, leaning into them as he chewed and swallowed his bite.  
  
“Huh?” Yixing almost jumped in his seat, having forgot that the Duke hadn’t been the only one Yixing was sharing the table with. “Oh, uh no, I just don’t have much of an appetite today.”  
  
Tao narrowed his eyes, leaning closer towards Yixing, “Oh? Is that really all?” he asked, eyes flicking back and forth as he scanned the other. “Come on, you can tell me what’s bugging you,” he continued, shifty back into his seat and letting Yixing breathe comfortably once more.  
  
“Nothing’s bothering me,” Yixing repeated, wondering when it was acceptable to just get up and leave this conversation.  
  
“Right,” Tao drawled, “Just like nothing is wrong with that idiot cousin of mine.” He picked up his chopsticks again, picking at smaller pieces of food that lined the edged of the dish plate before them.  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“My cousin. You know, that guy who was just standing there,” – he pointed to the recently vacated seat – “with this dumb look on his face before making that awful excuse and disappearing like the room was on fire.”  
  
None of the words that came out of Tao’s mouth made any sense to Yixing. “I… don’t understand what you mean.”  
  
“I _mean_ ,” Tao continued with a sigh, “Yifan doesn’t just _forget_ about things he has to do. He remembers _everything_ , one of his more annoying traits, actually. I mean who remembers that someone owes him a doll that someone might’ve broke out of jealousy when they were kids; it was practically two cycles ago now!”  
  
Yixing could only offer a blank stare to the story, not sure if he should be offering condolences for the other’s “troubles”. Tao groaned and rolled his eyes, “The two of you, _seriously_ ,” he grumbled, obviously to himself, before he cleared his throat, “The Duke, I don’t think he likes that you and I are so… friendly.”  
  
“Are we?” Yixing asked, “Friendly, I mean. And if we are, why would he not like that? Are you not his cousin?”  
  
Tao raised an eyebrow as if in disbelief. “Uhm, how do I put this? He… he didn’t pay your freedom from _The Star_ so that you could spend time with another man.”  
  
“He _likes_ you,” Tao added when Yixing failed to offer an indication of understanding. “He paid for your freedom so that you can stay by his side. Everyday. And yet here you are, sitting here with me. He’s upset that you chose to sit next to me and not him. Is this making sense to you yet? Aren’t you supposed to be _good_ at this kind of stuff, you know given your… history?”  
  
Yixing kept quiet as he processed Tao’s words, leaving the latter to shake his head with an amused chuckle before shoveling a mound of food into his mouth and then getting up to leave, “Tell my cousin I probably won’t be back in time for dinner so don’t wait up.”  
  
Yixing supposed that he _should_ be good at this, but then it had always been for show, always so easy to tell the lie. With a heavy sigh, he made up his mind and asked the nearest servant to pick a selection of lunch items and have them delivered to his room. “As soon as possible, please,” he added as he left the dining room towards his quarters again.  
  
…  
  
Yifan chewed on the back of his ink brush, staring at the blank page under him with unseeing eyes, replaying the image of Lay’s subtle smile towards Zitao over and over in his head.  
  
A soft knock sounded on the door and Minseok left the Duke’s side to address the visitor, shooting behind him, “You’re going to gnaw off the end of that brush if you keep doing that, My Lord.” Yifan ignored him; he had yet to forgive his manservant for his mocking attitude earlier.  
  
“H-hi,” came a familiar voice and Yifan immediately dropped the brush he’d been fiddling with. “May I have an audience with My Lord?”  
  
Yifan looked between Lay and Minseok, who nodded encouragingly before dismissing himself and closing the door to allow some privacy.  
  
“If it’s not too much trouble, I mean,” Lay continued, voice shaky in an obvious expression of nervousness.  
  
“Yes, of course,” Yifan managed, getting to his feet to walk around his desk, only then noting the tray in Lay’s hands, full of covered plates.  
  
“You didn’t stay at lunch very long, and I figured My Lord might be hungry,” Lay continued, placing the tray down on the table closest to the door. He proceeded to lift the lids and piling them to the side.  
  
Anxious and somewhat bewildered with the sudden change in attitude, Yifan stepped forward and settle into the nearest seat, signaling for Lay to do the same. Hardly expecting nothing short of the same awkward behavior from lunch, the Duke drew in a sharp breath when Lay took the seat next to the Duke, picking up the pair of chopsticks and picking up a piece of fish and holding it up for Yifan. Left hand cupped to catch any droppings, Lay brought the food close enough to feed a hesitant Yifan, who continued to stare in bafflement.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Lay said after a silence. “I’ve been exceptionally rude to My Lord, and I hope that you may find it in you to forgive this insolent servant. I understand if what I have done has offended My Lord too much, I shall leave this pl-”  
  
“No, it’s quite alright,” Yifan scrambled, “There’s nothing to forgive, really,” the Duke found himself saying, a smile gracing his lips despite having earlier been positively annoyed at the other.  
  
“I, uhm, may I be so bold to ask a favour of My Lord, despite my poor behavior?”  
  
 _Anything_ , the Duke wanted to say, surprised at how quickly he’d forgiven Lay for such _improper_ behavior at lunch. _Anything as long as you promise not to ignore me again._ “I, ahem, yes, of course,” he offered instead, urging the smile he was sure was threatening to break his cheeks to settle.  
  
Lay looked down again, shooting an uncomfortable pain through Yifan’s chest again, an unknown instinct terrified that Lay might’ve taken to avoiding the Duke’s eye again. To his relief, Lay looked up a brief moment later, holding a familiar article in both hands, as if in offering to the Duke. “I… also would like to stay by My Lord’s side… for as long as My Lord will have me.”  
  
Yifan glanced from Lay down to the very hair ornament that he’d purchased for the courtesan, surprised that the latter had kept it amidst all the gifts the Duke was sure so many other clients would have purchased to show their affection for the beautiful courtesan. “You kept it,” he said flatly, taking it gingerly in his hands.  
  
Lay had been hanging his head as soon as he’s said his part, and Yifan could see the faint rosy glow in the former’s cheeks. The Duke swallowed once before getting to his feet, “May I?” At that, the ex-courtesan’s head shot up, letting out a heavy breath he must have been holding as the smile the Duke loved pulled at Lay’s lips, as if he’d been waiting, _hoping_ , that Yifan would do this.  
  
“Yes, please,” Lay breathed out, turning in his seat.  
  
It was refreshing for the Duke to see this side of Lay, unsure and not in total control of conversation. He found an empty spot (as if Lay had purposely vacated the area for this very purpose) and pressed the ornament into place, hands falling to rest on Lay’s shoulders as he admired the piece in the assembly atop Lay’s head. As an afterthought, he bent his legs slightly at the knees and dropped his arms to wrap around the shorter’s shoulders.  
  
“ _Thank you_.”  
  
…  
  
Yixing could feel his heart skip a beat as he felt the warmth of the Duke settle around him and he had to remind himself that this was what he’d made up his mind to do, this was what he’d wanted in the first place when he’d started those tallies so long ago. That ever since that first client, _this_ was what he’d dreamed he could be worthy of.  
  
Maybe it was time he stopped dreaming, this was reality after all.  
  
Certainly, the Duke could grow tired of him and drop him like that wealthy businessman, that sweet talking army general, that owner of a popular bakery, that lecherous doctor. But right now, Yixing let himself relax just a little into the Duke’s warm touch, hand reaching up to fold fingers around the latter’s strong wrist.  
  
Maybe, just _maybe_ , things might be okay now.


	22. Chapter 22

Yifan saw the hesitation in Lay as the latter looked down at the piece of chicken that had been placed in his bowl. He watched the shoulders on the ex-courtesan come up slowly in a deep breath before Lay looked up with a soft smile that seemed grateful. Grateful for what, Yifan could only guess but he took the non-repulsed reaction a good sign; at least Lay had stopped ignoring the Duke. Yifan let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and bent over his own bowl. “So, uhm,” he started, fumbling with his thoughts for something he could start a conversation about.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s this? My dear cousin has the time to step away from his long list of duties to entertain a guest?”  
  
Yifan had to ground his teeth together to keep from throwing his dish at Zitao, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to calm himself. _Leave it to Zitao to come in at the most inopportune time_ , he thought to himself, though he couldn’t deny that he was only half upset; his cousin always knew how to lighten a mood and at the moment, Yifan could really use that skill.  
  
“Are you two eating without me? Rude,” Zitao joked, waving away the servant who had stepped forward to set a third place at the table. Instead, the Duke’s cousin took liberties in seating himself on the other side of Lay, across from the Duke, and reaching into the nearest plate with his hand to pick up a piece of pork.  
  
Yifan scowled, reaching out to rap his cousin’s knuckled with his chopsticks, an action he only just realized he took after his mother. “Really, Huang Zitao?” Of course, his cousin only shrugged, shaking out his hand more dramatically than needed. The Duke contemplated shooing his cousin, to tell the younger to find somewhere else to play but his thoughts were interrupted as a quiet chuckle rose from beside him; Yifan didn’t know how he felt about his idiot cousin of his always bringing out a laugh from Lay, something that the Duke himself had been having trouble doing. “See?” Zitao countered, clearly having noticed the quiet laugh from Lay, “You should have more of a sense of humour, like _saozi_.”  
  
Yifan nearly choked on his food at the term, not sure if he should explain that if his cousin wanted to imply the relationship between Lay and himself, perhaps he should have chosen a more gender appropriate term. Beside him, Lay seemed to have the same reaction and Yifan put his chopsticks down to reach over and check, grinning to himself when he noticed the slight rosy flush in the latter’s cheek’s. “Please don’t – I’m not – this isn’t…?” Lay managed to stutter out as he tried to catch his breath, pointedly avoiding Yifan’s eye.  
  
The Duke mentally berated himself; he really should’ve corrected his cousin, but truthfully, he enjoyed seeing Lay flustered. It was a nice change from the always-in-control courtesan anyway. Yifan cleared his throat when Lay finally recovered, unnecessarily straightening his own robes along with his expression, opening his mouth to finally tell his cousin to shut up only to be interrupted with the sound of a subtle clearing of the throat.  
  
The trio all turned towards the door to find the Duke’s mother standing in the doorway, joined immediately by Ah Mei. “M-mother? I thought you’d be at the City until the day after next…?” Yifan scrambled, along with his cousin and his newest live-in guest, to get to his feet to greet her.  
  
Yifan’s mother didn’t answer immediately, taking a slow look around the table, watchful eyes pausing notably on Lay and if Yifan hadn’t lived with this woman for twenty five years, he might not have noticed her gaze harden for the quickest moment.  
  
Ah Mei seemed to do the same, without the judging look, eyebrows raising only in the slightest as her eyes flickered between Yifan and Lay, realization flooding her reaction. No one could’ve missed the look of surprise she initially wore, though she gathered herself quickly, “Future Mother-in-Law, perhaps I should have someone run you a warm bath. It was a long ride, after all. I’ll have the kitchen prepare something fresh for us.” she suggested, looking up at Yifan with eyes that seemed all too knowing. She was unexpectedly perceptive, Yifan decided, assuming that Ah Mei had already deduced that Lay was the _shopkeeper_ they spoke of before.  
  
The Duke’s mother hardly seemed to hear Ah Mei’s suggestion, sight focused on the space between her son and his guest; it didn’t take a genius to notice that he was standing too close to Lay for a man and a woman of respectful relations. Yifan swallowed hard at the plastered smile on his mother’s face, lips pressed tightly into the thin line that the Duke knew could only be bad news for him.  
  
“Ah, Zitao, I’m not sure you’ve met your cousin’s fiancé yet, have you?” the Duke’s mother asked, attention seeming too focused solely on Zitao to be natural. Yifan flinched slightly at how emphatic she’d been about his fiancé; _she knew._ “This is Ah Mei, the general’s wonderful daughter,” she continued before taking the seat furthest from Lay, and Ah Mei taking the seat next to him.  
  
Yifan swallowed again, daring a glance beside him to Lay who’s face had been completely drained of colour.  
  
…  
  
“So Zitao, how’s your mother?”  
  
Yixing wanted to kick himself for agreeing to lunch with the Duke, though he wasn’t sure if “agreeing” was the right term; was it even possible to say no to a Duke? He kept his head hung, left hand playing with the edges of his bowl while the right hand fisted into his dress under the table.  
  
“Same as always, I suppose,” Tao answered, deigning to finally use chopsticks instead of his fingers to represent his respect for the Duke’s mother.  
  
“And you? Are you doing well? Will you be staying with us for a while?” Tao seemed to avoid the question, clearing his throat and reaching for the nearest plate, only succeeding to make the Duke’s mother laugh, a sound that startled Yixing. “Tell your mother not to worry, we’ll have you whipped into shape in no time.” Tao scowled but managed a mumbled thanks through a full mouth.  
  
Yixing felt like he might throw up; agreeing to lunch with the Duke had been one thing, but the ex-courtesan hadn’t anticipated the Duke’s mother to show up, giving him a once over with stripping eyes that made Yixing feel exposed. And of course, who could forget this _fiancé_ that had arrived with the Duke’s mother. He dared a glance up at this _Ah Mei_ , realizing that he could never win against this beauty. He recognized her, but from where or when he couldn’t quite place. Curiosity winning a second time, he peered up again, only to have her stare straight at him. Yixing dropped his gaze immediately, wondering if she knew the real reason Yixing was here; certainly having a woman move into the home of one’s fiancé wasn’t what one dreamed of to come home to after a long trip.  
  
So he kept his head down for the rest of lunch, desperate to get out of this stuffy room, to grab some fresh air, but too terrified to leave a room with a duke and his mother without their permission; he’d rather his head remained atop his shoulders, and not rolling at his feet.  
  
He had thought the first time was an accident, but the second time Ah Mei reached over for his hand was more obvious, her fingers wrapping around his under the table. He looked up sharply in alarm, catching her offer him a smile that complimented the reassuring squeeze under the table, as if to say it was okay. She let go a moment later to pick up some veggies for the Duke’s mother, leaving Yixing to stew for the rest of the meal, wondering if Ah Mei _knew_ and what she might do about it; he’d seen those smiles on the girls back at _The Star_ before, right before they moved to steal each other’s clients.  
  
A look up at the Duke only made Yixing more anxious; the Duke seemed unfazed, not the least bit concerned as he chatted with this mother about her trip to see the Emperor. It was as Yixing watched the other four at the table that he started to feel left out; he didn’t belong here with this family of royalty, he didn’t fit in and there was no way he would _ever_ fit in. His back slumped into his chair, his focus now on the _fiancé_ , wondering when it would be best to find an exit to this damned place and terrified of what he might be in for now that the Duke’s official fiancé seemed to be aware of the Duke’s affairs outside the official.  
  
After what felt like an eternity, lunch came to an end and Yixing could barely contain his sigh of relief to be allowed to finally go back to the safety of being alone in his room. His legs itched for a stretch even as the last dishes on the table were getting cleared, but he reminded himself it was rude to be the first to leave the table.  
  
“I’d like a private moment alone with your guest, Son,” the Duke’s Mother suddenly said as her son and his cousin got to their feet to leave.  
  
Yixing looked up in surprise, eyes flicking between the mother and the son, trying to decipher the perplexed look on the Duke’s face. It was a moment later that Yixing realized that the guest in question was _him_. Dread started to find home in the pit of his stomach and he almost, _almost_ , hoped that the Duke would deny the request. He could see Tao in his peripheral, the first person to move after the comment, hurrying quickly to beside the Duke’s fiancé when the Duke stood frozen on the spot.  
  
“Whatever it is that you want to say to her, you can say to me,” the Duke finally piped up once Tao and Ah Mei had left the room, the latter turning around before she left, leaving Yixing with a feeling of unease; that smile seemed almost apologetic, but that was impossible.  
  
The Duke’s mother didn’t seem to bother turning to address her son, keeping a hard gaze on Yixing that was enough to keep him staring down in his lap; he didn’t know what exactly it was that she wanted, but he doubted it was to welcome him with open arms. “It’s a matter just for us women,” she explained in a sickening sweet voice that sent shivers up Yixing’s spine as his chin dug further into his chest, wishing that she would stop staring him down. He could still see the Duke holding his position in the seat next to him and Yixing almost wanted to grab his hand to thank him.  
  
“Leave. Us.”  
  
The two syllables were curt and icy and made Yixing squirm in his seat so much more than the sickening sweet tone. “Fine,” the Duke replied barely audibly after a long defeated sigh. Yixing turned his head slightly to look up at the Duke only to have his anxiety grow; if even the _Duke_ was folding to that tone, what chance did a lowly courtesan like himself have?  
  
As if the Duke could read minds, he leaned over to press his lips quickly to Yixing’s cheek, one hand reaching out to squeeze the latter’s shoulder once comfortingly, “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “It’s going to be okay.” He stood up straight again and pulled Yixing’s chin upwards, “Come find me when you guys are done, alright?”  
  
Yixing might’ve even believed those words if he wasn't pretty sure that doing what the Duke had just done in front of his mother might have just set Yixing’s death sentence in stone. The only thing to be decided would be the date. He watched frozen in place as the Duke shot his mother a triumphant look as if the whole thing had simply been to prove something. Yixing couldn’t bring himself to find use of his vocal cords and only nodded hesitantly; what was this lie when he was to die anyway?


	23. Chapter 23

Yifan paced in his study, hands wringing each other numb as innumerable scenarios of what was happening in the dining room since his departure.  
  
“You’re going to need a new rug at that rate,” Zitao remarked as the doors closed behind him.  
  
Yifan scowled with irritation, stopping in his tracks only to glare at his cousin, “If you don’t have anything useful to say, just shut up,” he grumbled, not caring that his tone was terse and brought an alarmed eyebrow up into Zitao’s forehead. “And weren’t you supposed to be escorting Ah Mei back to her room?” he added with a snap.  
  
Zitao folded his arms across his chest, “You mean that thing that her fiancé should’ve been doing? Not her fiancé’s cousin?”  
  
Yifan groaned and leaned backwards against his study table, “What do you want, Zitao?” His fingers folded around the edge of the desk and Yifan could tell even without looking that his knuckles were probably bone white but if he let go any, he felt like he’d collapse.  
  
The Duke's cousin shook his head with a sigh, “Can’t I just come by to see how you are?”  
  
Yifan watched as Zitao took a seat across the room from him without another mocking word, which was odd for a man who had always been so outspoken. He didn’t voice his concerns, only letting out a long sigh and opting to get moving again; how long was his mother going to keep with this torture.  
  
“She’s going to be fine, Yifan,” Zitao finally piped up again.  
  
For a second time, Zitao brought Yifan’s pacing to an abrupt stop, the latter spinning around to face the former who was simply picking at a seam on his sleeve. The Duke let out a long sigh as his shoulders slouched and he moved forward to join his cousin in the adjacent seat. “This is my fault, I shouldn’t have brought her here,” he mumbled, leaning his elbows into his knees and dropping his head between his hands. Maybe that move with Lay just before he left the latter alone with the Duke’s mother wasn’t the best idea…  
  
Zitao shrugged next to him, “Sure, but regretting that isn’t going to help right now. Besides, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”  
  
Yifan turned to scowl, “What? What do you know, anyway?”  
  
A snort and then a smirk, “I know that you like this one. More than you’ve liked _anyone_. Ever.”  
  
The Duke groaned and got back to his feet, unable to keep still with his worry, “You know, I liked you better when all you did was make smart retorts about my life and put your dirty boots all over my furniture.”  
  
“Mm-hmm,” Zitao hummed, going back to investigate his robes in his seat.  
  
Yifan let out another sigh; yes, he had to admit that he _did_ like Lay more than most people in his life. Right now though, that hardly seemed to matter because his mother was probably well into her methods and Lay, well… Yifan pressed his thumbs into his temples with a groan, trying to convince himself that the thousands of images his head had to be worse than what was actually happening.  
  
“Your mother has agreed with my mom to give me lessons on being all hoity toity like you, by the way,” Zitao chimed, an obvious attempt to get Yifan’s mind off his current worry but the Duke laughed anyway.  
  
“Seriously? That’s what she meant when she said she’d get you wiped into shape?” Yifan grinned, the image of his delinquent cousin sitting still at a desk learning calligraphy and taking history lessons pulling his lips up to his ears. “Wow, well wouldn’t that be a sight for sore eyes,” he chuckled.  
  
“Shut up,” Zitao groaned, smacking the Duke on the shoulder, only to get a louder chuckle before Yifan quieted again, anxiety about Lay too strong to be ignored for an amusing picture of Zitao _studying_.  
  
Silence fell in the room again and Yifan chewed on his thumbnail, ignoring the nagging voice of his mom when he was a child. “Thanks,” Yifan remembered to say, maybe a little delayed but he needed his cousin to know that his efforts hadn’t gone by unnoticed.  
  
“Mm-hmm,” Zitao hummed again, “She’ll be fine,” he repeated quietly beside him.  
  
Yifan was loath to believe him but what was he to do but wait for either his mother to deliver the bad news herself or for Minseok to come back from spying on Lay’s conversation.  
  
…  
  
Yixing waited in silence for the Duke’s mother to speak first, head hung and avoiding the latter’s gaze vehemently. It seemed like a year had passed before she finally let out a sigh, the sound echoing in the empty room and startling Yixing in his seat.  
  
“How long?” she asked simply.  
  
“What?” Yixing replied in alarm, looking up at the regal woman who narrowed her eyes before he noticed his mistake. “I mean, pardon?” he corrected himself.  
  
The Duke’s mother seemed to sigh with exasperation, “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like I don’t know what my own son likes to do on his off time, but I never imagined he’d bring one of you _home_ with him. How’d you manage that, by the way?”  
  
“I-…? What?” Yixing barely managed in response, hoping his expression didn’t’ betray even half of the confusion he felt. Thankfully for him, he managed to pull himself together long enough to realize that the Duke’s mother was hardly expecting an actual response to her questions. She didn’t seem to care what Yixing’s replies were, like she was really only talking out loud to herself and Yixing only had to be a quiet audience.  
  
“But right now? With the wedding coming up? What is that boy thinking? I’d blame you, but really, Yifan’s been such a good child, I knew my luck had to run out eventually.” She seemed to pause in her monologue, focus nowhere near Yixing anymore as she spoke to the empty room.  
  
 “Would you… like me to leave then?” Yixing eked out.  
  
 Her head spun around to fix her gaze on Yixing, as if she’d forgotten he was there, and proceeded to rub her temples through tightly shut eyes. Without another word she simply got up, glared at Yixing a moment before turning her back on him and speaking to the nearest manservant, “Don’t let her leave until I return. I need to have a word with my son.”  
  
Yixing watched on silently as she left the room to be replaced with two guards stepping in to block the only way out of the room. Alone save for the mute guards in the room, Yixing slouched into his seat, staring blankly at the dining table until the doors swung open again moments later.  
  
“Leave us,” Ah Mei announced in much the same way as the Duke’s mother had done earlier, only this voice didn’t send the same terrifying shivers up Yixing’s back.  
  
“The Duke’s mother has forbade-” one of the guards defending, standing solidly in the way.  
  
“Let me remind you that I will be your Mistress in but a month, perhaps I should have a discussion with my betrothed about your disobedience,” she pressed with her calm grace.  
  
One of the guards flinched noticeably, “The Duke’s mother’s word is absolu-”  
  
“I will be but a moment. And if my future mother-in-law returns before I am finished, I will take responsibility for your actions. Stand guard outside for the time being.”  
  
Yixing could see the hesitation in the guards’ eyes, contemplating through silence glances to each other whether to oblige. Ah Mei crossed her arms, eyes expectant as though it was already decided. “Well?” It was another moment before the guards stepped aside, letting Ah Mei through as they took post outside the closed doors.  
  
Ah Mei turned slightly as if to make sure the doors had closed completely before walking briskly towards Yixing, who tensed in expectation. “I’m sorry about that, and I must be quick.”  
  
Yixing’s eyebrows stitched together in suspicion but kept quiet, wondering what this woman wanted; he was plenty used to the other girls at _The Star_ and how they would treat him if he’d stolen one of their clients, by accident or not. He braced himself, grabbing the edge of his seat anxiously.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Ah Mei consoled, as if reading his mind, “I just want to talk,” she smiled, and Yixing found it hard not to want to believe that lovely smile. Then again, the girls at _The Star_ also had lovely smiles. Still, Ah Mei’s seemed more earnest than most, so he let her take the seat next to him without argument.  
  
“You must be the ‘shop owner’ the Duke was talking about,” she started, though its meaning was lost of Yixing.  
  
“Uhm, shop owner…?”  
  
Ah Mei laughed, its gentleness shaking Yixing who grab onto his seat tighter still.  
  
“We’ve met once before, do you remember?” she asked, ignoring Yixing’s inquiry about this ‘shop owner’.  
  
Yixing nodded slowly, “Uhm, yes. At the Duke’s weekend party, yes?” he answered in a whisper, still trying to gauge the hostility to come.  
  
Ah Mei clapped her hands together ecstatically and Yixing flinched slightly at the action, expecting to have been hit across the cheek instead. “Yes! I’m glad you remember!” she answered as Yixing waited anxiously for the other shoe to drop. “The Duke really cares for you, doesn’t he?” she asked, round eyes betraying nothing.  
  
Yixing stayed quiet once more, not sure if that was even true but mostly just worried for whatever threat it was that Ah Mei was currently withholding for whatever reason. Instead, he was taken by surprise once again as Ah Mei chuckled quietly once more, “Do forgive him, won’t you? He’s really awful at expressing himself and I can only imagine he’s a lot worse when he’s actually with you, isn’t he?”  
  
Yixing bit his lip and continued to stay quiet; what was she getting at? Was this to prove that she knew him much better than he did? Of course she did, she’s the fiancé and Yixing was just some whore the Duke visited on occasion whenever it tickled his fancy.  
  
Ah Mei frowned slightly as if she realized she was talking to a wall and let out a defeated sigh, “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but all I really wanted was to just say hello. I hope we can get to know each other well, especially if the Duke’s got an eye for you. I really do hope we can get along.” She offered another smile and Yixing returned what could only pass for a half grimace. “Well, I better go before Mother-in-Lay returns, she seemed pretty upset.” She got to her feet and pressed one hand lightly on Yixing’s should as thought in comfort, “Don’t hesitate to come talk to me if you ever need to, okay?”  
  
Yixing watched the Duke’s fiancé leave just as quickly as she arrived, wondering what devious plot she had hidden behind those kind words. ‘ _I really shouldn’t have come here,’_ he swallowed nervously as the guard duo returned to their posts inside the door, to stay stationed there until the Duke’s mother returned with whatever wrath she’d determined in her absence.  
  
Maybe he could fight his way out, those guards didn’t seem _that_ intimidating.  
  
Yixing eyed the swords secured at each guards side and resigned to staying in his seat; until the Duke’s mother returned with her bit and left Yixing to his devices, he had no hope of stealing away. ‘ _After, then_ ,’ Yixing thought to himself. Yes, he’d wait for now, but then he was leaving immediately at the first opportunity.  
  
He thought momentarily about whether to bring Lu Han along with him but the boy seemed acclimated here and it was certainly a decent enough place for him to spend the rest of his youth. Lu Han seemed well cared for here at least, always in good spirits and laughing whenever Yixing found him. Yixing sighed at the idea of going alone, but that was always how it would end anyway, _alone._  
  
He sighed and waited impatiently for the Duke’s mother to return.  
  
…  
  
Yifan could hardly be considered ‘surprised’ when his mother burst into his study but he jumped out of his seat next to Zitao all the same. She wore an obviously agitated look on her face and the Duke braced himself for the inevitable reprimand.  
  
Zitao didn’t need to be told that this was a discussion he needed to have no part in and he excused himself quickly, resting a hand on Yifan’s shoulder before he left, “If you make it out of this alive, we’ll go grab a drink tonight.”  
  
Out of habit, the Duke stood at attention, waiting for his mother to whether she was going to sit or remain standing. She chose to stay standing, eyes boring into his own until he had to speak first, “Is she okay?” he asked flatly, afraid of the answer.  
  
Yifan’s mother finally broke her stern stance to scowl, “You make it sound like I took a knife to you _friend_ ,” she bit out the last word spitefully, not bothering to hide her disdain at the situation.  
  
“Did you?” Yifan returned, in no mood to be making jokes about Lay’s wellbeing.  
  
His mother rolled her eyes and finally took the seat that Zitao had recently vacated. “She’s fine,” she sighed, “And _I’m_ fine too, if you even bothered to ask. You know, besides the fact that my son has brought some bimbo to stay in _my_ home.”  
  
“She’s not ‘some bimbo’,” Yifan retorted, “And of course you’re fine mother. What could Lay possibly do to hurt you?”  
  
“Besides brainwashing my other child? Oh, I don’t know, she could’ve killed me and then pretended that I attacked her, all to get your pity. And then you’d fall for all her tricks and then get all the riches she’d ever want.”  
  
Yifan’s jaw clenched and he resisted to urge to rudely cross his arms, opting instead to grip his fingers tightly behind his back, “Lay isn’t the type to do that.”  
  
One of the corners of her lips twitched up into a skewed smirk, “Oh really? And how would you know that? Where’s she from?”  
  
The Duke swallowed hard, only just realizing that he had no idea what part of the nation Lay hailed from; it had never mattered anyway, Lay was just Lay.  
  
“Just tell me which brothel that whore is from,” she amended, almost looking bored.  
  
“Lay is not a whore!” Yifan snapped sharply before he could knew he was doing it, but he held the defiant gaze all the same.  
  
His mother raised an eyebrow, “My, aren’t we defensive. What happened to that good filial son of mine?”  
  
Recognizing words meant to get him to back down, Yifan’s gaze hardened, “He’s standing right here in front of you, asking what you did to his friend.”  
  
With a sigh, she replied with calm, “Nothing. At least not yet, anyway.”  
  
Yifan was almost comforted to know that Lay was okay, but the ‘yet’ worried him, “And not ever.”  
  
“You’re getting married to Ah Mei in a month, you realize,” she reminded him, “The General is a very good man, but he is not a particularly _forgiving_ man.”  
  
“Lay is not leaving my side,” Yifan pressed tersely, unrelenting. He loved his mother and respected her for her advice in all other aspects, but this one time, he wasn’t backing down. “The Emperor himself has many concubines, does he not.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement and Yifan watched his mother’s lip press into a dangerous thin line.  
  
Silence hung in the study for a moment before she continued again, “You love her, don’t you?”  
  
Yifan swallowed at the sudden question, hard gaze wavering a moment as he contemplated it. He’d never really thought about it, he just knew that right now, he wanted Lay to be by his side. His mother chuckled and sighed, as if in defeat, “Of course you do. You _are_ your father’s son, after all.” She cleared her throat and moved to standing, straightening her dress before returning Yifan’s steady gaze. “You still can’t marry that woman though,” she finished flatly, in a tone that Yifan knew meant the last of the discussion. She spun on her heels with her usual grace and headed to the exit once more.  
  
“Since we’re being honest, then there’s just one last thing I need to share with you,” Yifan waited for his mother to pause before the door, “Lay is a man, and whatever you plan on doing to him, I can promise you that he is not going to leave my side.”


	24. Chapter 24

It was an eternity before the doors opened again and Yixing jumped to his feet in surprise, hiding it in a deep bow in greeting.  
He was received will much less enthusiasm, “Sit,” the Duke’s mother ordered tersely and in a manner that made Yixing’s leg bend at the knees immediately. Another terse command from the woman had the room emptied save for the two of them and Yixing chewed on his bottom lip nervously. She took a seat at the table as well, not yet speaking as if trying to compose her thoughts into coherent words.  
  
“For some reason, my idiot son seems to have taken a liking to you, but let’s get something straight,” she started, prompting Yixing to bit down even harder on his lip, enough to break the skin, “You will never marry him, and you will never bear his children so what use do I have for you?”  
  
Yixing could only open and close his mouth soundlessly; he’d never even contemplated _marrying_ the Duke, and especially not now since he’d so recently decided he was leaving this place anyway.  
  
The Duke’s mother took a deep breath as if to calm herself, “Yifan… my son has never done anything like this before. He’s always been such a good son, listening to everything I said, never a retort in his life and yet for _you_ , he would dare fight his mother.”  
  
Yixing grimaced, trying not to think about how the only maternal figure he’d ever had in his life was Lady Pearl and good as she’d been to him, she’d also made a profit off Lay’s body. “I-I’m sorry… I’ll leave,” he stuttered, starting to get to his feet only to be brusquely interrupted.  
  
“Shut up, I’m not done yet,” she waved, signaling Lay to stay planted in his seat, “Yifan has never made a poor decision in his life until you came into his life. Now, I don’t know how long this has been going on, or just what it is between you two, but I want to be straight with you from the start,” she paused as if to make sure Yixing understood what she was about to say, “I don’t like you, not at all. But I _do_ love my son. And for some strange reason, my son demands your existence in my home despite his own mother’s wishes. Yifan is just as stubborn as I am so if I find a way to forcefully remove you from his life permanently, he may just be angry with me forever. So until he comes to his senses himself, here’s how it’s going to be.” Again, she paused to make sure Yixing was paying attention, “For starters, you will cease this charade as a woman.”  
  
Caught by surprise that he had been found out so soon, Yixing nearly slipped off his chair. _‘But how?’_ Yixing had always been so sure of his ability to conceal himself.  
  
“You will join Huang Zitao in his lessons,” the Duke’s mother continued, almost upon deaf ears as Yixing struggled with the first demand. “I will not have some… uncivilized bumpkin staining the Wu Family reputation. And if you put one _hair_ out of line, I _will_ have you removed from this home. And you,” she continued, only to turn around to face a dark corner in the room where Minseok revealed himself by stepping out from behind a hanging decoration cloth. ‘ _How long had the manservant been standing there?’_ Yixing wondered for a moment, the shock of this discovery shaking him from his internal debate about how the Duke’s mother had so quickly seen through him; clearly it was because she knew _everything_.  
  
“You go tell your master my terms,” the Duke’s mother continued, facing Minseok fully, “You let him know that if _either_ of them try to pull anything, I will put an end to this farce immediately, mother’s love be damned. And make sure to tell him that under absolutely no circumstance,” she paused to glare at Yixing as she got to her feet once more, “Is this _commoner_ to take a single step into my son’s chambers.” She seemed to finish, waving off Minseok before she herself took to leaving the room, not giving a single backwards glance at Yixing before she disappeared.  
  
Yixing sat still as a statue in his seat, still a little stunned at the one sided conversation he’d just been a part of. It was only a little while later that he noticed how quiet the room has fallen without the shrill list of terms and conditions for Yixing’s staying at the Duke’s home. “Classes with Zitao?” he muttered to himself, eyebrows creasing into a single line across his forehead. What on earth was the woman talking about? He shook his head; what did he care what classes she was talking about? He was leaving here as soon as possible anyway.  
  
Yixing glances up at the door to find the guards’ shadows gone; he was finally alone. _‘As soon as possible? No, more like_ now, _’_ he thought to himself, noting his chance. He crept to the door, taking a furtive glance in every direction around him to make sure he was alone. He hesitated a moment, contemplating packing some things to take with him; it would be nice to have some clothes with him when he left. His teeth ground together as he imagined his chances of losing this opportunity; the risk of someone noticing him on the way back to his room seemed too great and he didn’t fancy the idea of waiting until the next opportunity presented itself, trapped in this hellish place.  
  
He hadn’t realized he’d been shaking until he’d reached his hand out to open the door. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he tried to still it with no luck. He scowled with irritation, “I don’t have time for this,” he berated himself, balling his hand into a fist and pushing the doors open as quietly as he could manage in his eagerness to leave. He headed North past the familiar peony garden, ducking left quickly when a couple of maids rounded the corner into view. He finally stopped when he arrived at the North Wing where there was a wall just that little bit lower than the rest. He reached behind one of the potted trees for the wooden stool he’d stashed there earlier that week; Yixing had found the place within the first couple of nights that he’d arrived. He hesitated a moment as he stood on the stool, hands reaching up to grab hold of the top lip of the wall; he shouldn’t leave Lu Han behind. He reasoned that the boy was better off staying in a the home of a well respected noble than in whatever life Yixing was heading into over this wall. Then again, who knows what would happen to Lu Han in Yixing’s absence?  
  
He swallowed angrily when he heard his own mocking voice ask him if he was just stalling with thoughts of Lu Han so that he might get caught and have to stay. _You don’t_ really _want to leave, do you_? As if to make a point, Yixing jumped up and pulled himself up over the wall, taking a deep breath before dropping off onto the ground on the other side, landing off center and sending a sharp pain up his heel and through his ankle. A string of expletives rolled off his tongue as he kneeled down to assess the damage.  
  
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were running away, scared of my aunt’s wrath.”  
  
Yixing’s attention snapped up away from his hurt ankle at the sound of the mocking tone to find Tao leaning casually against the wall Yixing had just descended from with his arms folded across his chest. Too surprised to actually commit to any kind of verbal response, Yixing grew annoyed - what was it going to take to leave this miserable part of his life behind? When was it going to stop chasing him?  
  
“If you’re trying to come up with an excuse, don’t worry about it,” Tao chuckled, pushing off the wall and stepping towards Yixing and offering a hand to help Yixing up, “I’ve used this wall many time to get away from her wrath too,” he laughed, even as Yixing swatted his hand away and got up to his feet on his own. He stumbled momentarily, wincing as he figured which way to lean to take pressure off his ankle. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” Tao continued, despite having a silent conversation partner. “That doesn’t look so good, want me to take a look at it?”  
  
Yixing scowled as he pushed past Tao, “I’m _fine_. If you’re not here to summon me back, then just please leave me alone.”  
  
Tao jogged a couple paces to stop in front Yixing. “Look, I was brought up not to abandon an injured friend.”  
  
Yixing rolled his eyes, “We’re not friends,” he spat sharply just before his stomach growled embarrassingly; he’d been too nervous to eat when he had been alone with the Duke, and his appetite had diminished to nothing at the sight of the Duke’s mother.  
  
“Want to get out of here?” Tao offered his hand again.  
  
Yixing sighed as he turned around and eyed the dead end and then his hurt ankle; his options were limited, he could either climb back over the wall and be rid of Tao (but be back where he’d just ran away from) or he could go _with_ Tao. He scowled again, but started forward, making a point of ignoring Tao’s outstretched hand as he limped around Tao towards the bustling street.  
  
“So,” Tao continued - Yixing didn’t like how Tao was walking beside him, but he could hardly pick up his pace to get away from Tao in his current state. “I hear you’ve lived here your entire life. Why not show me where the good places to chow down in are?” Tao asked, clearly trying to make conversation.  
  
“Not my _entire_ life,” Yixing muttered under his breath as he made for a food stand selling dry squid. He dug into his belt to retrieve the proper change, only to look up to see that Tao was already paying the merchant. Yixing scowled again, but didn’t bother arguing with the noble, burying his expression in nibbles instead; he hated to use someone else’s money but he also knew he was going to need as much as he could keep if he was going to start a new life somewhere (he hadn’t yet decided where).  
  
Tao didn’t seem to mind being ignored, grabbing a stick of his own before falling into step next to Yixing again. Slightly to his credit, Tao stayed quiet as he kept Yixing company as he wandered aimlessly along the streets. When the sky faded from vibrant pinks and oranges to a dull grey, Yixing finally stopped in the middle of the street and spun to face his escorter, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?!” he remarked, eyebrows furrowed together in clear agitation.  
  
Tao sighed wistfully, Yixing’s tone seemingly not affecting him in the least, “Yes,” he replied with a thoughtful expression, “Probably some sort of restaurant.”  
  
Yixing couldn’t tell if Tao was joking and his own stomach growled before he could come up with a retort; he hadn’t had anything to eat for dinner and the squid from hours ago hardly counted for a meal.  
  
Tao laughed, “You know, that sheepish look on your face right now could’ve been avoided if you’d just brought me to a good restaurant when I’d first suggested it.” He didn’t even wait for a response before grabbing Yixing by the wrist and, taking care not to pull too fast so as to let Yixing’s ankle keep up, guided them towards the nearest restaurant. They climbed stairs to seats on the second floor balcony where Tao ordered something Yixing didn’t hear; he was too busy making out the outline of the gate to the Duke’s home against lanterns that were being light along the streets one by one.  
  
The idea of Tao being the Duke’s mother’s spy had certainly crossed his mind a good couple of times during the day and Yixing wasn’t sure he was entirely convinced of Tao’s intentions but he was too tired right not to contemplate it. He reached down in his seat to massage his ankle, nodding a thanks to the waiter who brought them a couple cups of steaming tea.  
  
“So,” Tao started, cup in hand as he eyed Yixing over the rim, “When are you going to be done throwing this tantrum and come home?”  
  
Yixing chokes on his own tea, ‘home’? Was Tao talking about the Duke’s manor? He glances over the railing towards the fading view of the house he’d escaped from earlier today. He coughed a couple times, more to fill the silence than to clear anything from his throat. He flagged down the nearest waiter and ordered a bottle of wine. Yixing buried his face in his cup of tea, praying hard that the food arrived quickly and grateful that Tao didn’t seem to need to press for a response after he chuckled.  
  
*  
  
By the time Yixing noticed how dark the sky had become and how empty the restaurant was, he’d forgotten how many glasses of wine he’d consumed. All he could figure was that there were at least three empty bottles at their table now and Tao had started to look blurry. Dinner had been a quiet one and Yixing wasn’t even sure he remembered what exactly he’d even eaten. How long had he been sitting at this table anyway?  
  
Yixing picked up a single chopstick clumsily and poked at the plate of half eaten desserts in the middle of the table; when had they ordered desserts? He popped one of the cubes into his mouth before leaning his chin into his forearm where it lay across the railing that looked out to the dark silhouette of the Duke’s manor. He sighed heavily and proceeded to trace the outline with his free finger. “Whatever did I do to deserve you?” he wondered out loud in a mumble as he tilted his head to lie on his arm further. “And a Duke too,” he sighed, “I mean it’s like something out of a story, right? It’s really too bad your mom is batshit crazy though.”  
  
A snort sounded behind him and Yixing turned with some trouble, having forgotten momentarily that he wasn’t alone. He scowled at Tao and tucked his free arm under the other, turning back to watch stare at the Duke’s home, small lights flickering in and out to show life behind the gate. “And now she’s sent his monkey after me too,” he yawned, “You’re just going to go back to her and tell her how useless I am and probably devise some great plan to get rid of me. It’s really a waste of effort, you know. Just tell her not to waste her time, I won’t be going back.”  
  
Tao laughed from behind which only made Yixing scowl, “Of course you think that’s funny, I’m a complete waste of space anyway, and she wins.”  
  
Tao only laughed harder, “No, no. I’m just amused by the fact that you think highly enough of me that you would assume I was a co-conspirator with the Duke’s mother.”  
  
Glowering as best he could, Yixing filled his cup once more and downed it quickly, welcoming the burning sensation and the blankness it brought with it.  
  
\---  
  
Yifan paced in Lay’s room, as he’d been doing for the better portion of the day, wondering where Yixing could’ve disappeared off to, the most negative of his thoughts with references to the scars up and down Lay’s arm. The Duke had intended to talk to Lay before he had to take off for the _wang gong_ at first light. Minseok had reminded Yifan on three occasions of the list of things he should finish before leaving but after Yifan had yelled at Minseok to ‘mind his own goddamned business’, the manservant had been quiet on the matter.  
  
The Duke scrambled to the door at the first sound of clattering where he received his stumbling cousin. Frustrated from a day of waiting, he let out his frustration in the form of a lecture on how Zitao should really get his drunken habits in order before he realised why Zitao had been stumbling in the first place, holding up Lay who clearly was in no condition to hold himself up.  
  
Zitao rolled his eyes when he realised that Yifan was too alarmed to offer any aid, “Shouldn’t you be entertaining your mother or something?” Zitao asked rhetorically, the stench of wine on every word waking Yifan from his shocked state.  
  
“What the hell happened? Why are _you_ bringing him back at this time of night?!”  
  
“Okay, are you really going to do some stupid jealous thing here instead of helping me?”  
  
Yifan crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed and waiting for an explanation that Zitao didn’t bother providing. Instead, the Duke’s cousin rolled his eyes and let out a slight grunt as he picked up Lay bridal-style and placed him down on the bed. He grabbed the folded blankets at the foot of the bed and pulled them over Lay before signalling an irate Yifan to follow him outside the room.  
  
Yifan hesitated; _he_ was the one being wronged, why should he be the one following any sort of orders? He glanced back at Lay who had drawn the sheets into his chin and he sighed, deigning to follow his younger cousin out. He noted with alarm that Zitao knew how to be considerate of someone else when he’d never shown the same behaviour to the Duke, barging into his room at night and insisting (in his drunken loudness) to share the same bed as they used to when they were kids. He kept quiet however, waiting for Zitao to close the doors before pointing it out.  
  
Zitao glared at the Duke but didn’t offer a retort, surprising Yifan again. “You sure know how to pick ‘em,” he states instead with a yarn. “Spent all day making sure she didn’t run away, you’re welcome for that, by the way.” Another yawn stretched across his face, fatigue and inebriation evident in all his features, and before Yifan could get in any questions, he continued, “I gotta hit the hay, your mom’s already got some ridiculous class on calligraphy or something tomorrow morning.” He spun around, and headed off with a funny walk, almost tripping over his own feet when he turned to hush Yifan, “Shhhh! _Saozi_ is sleeping! If you’ve got so much time to just wait around, maybe you should come up with a way to keep her from running away again.”  
  
Yifan wanted desperately to yell obscenities at his younger cousin as he backed out of the wing, only to have Zitao point at Lay’s bedroom door with one hand and a finger from his other hand pressed to his lips. Instead, Yifan bit his tongue and reached for his shoe, throwing it at Zitao as the latter ducked and laughed out of sight.  
  
Cursing under his breath at his cousin’s ridiculous antics, Yifan turned back to Lay’s bedroom door and pushed it open gingerly. He began to obsessively tuck Lay into his bed before finally pulling up a chair next to it. He let out a long sigh of relief as he settling into the chair, watching the steady rise and fall of Lay’s chest under the blanket. Slipping a yawn into the back of his hand, Yifan finally let his heavy eyelids droop closed; he could say his temporary farewell to Lay in the morning now at least.  
  
\---  
  
Yixing rolled over in the sheets, swallowing hard at the sleeping image of the Duke’s cousin. Even in the dark, Yixing could recognize the pointed peak of Tao’s nose and the soft eyelashes that fluttered slightly as their owner dreamed of whatever it was that delinquent cousins of dukes dreamed of.  
  
Yixing squeezed his his eyes shut tightly and swallowed hard as he tried to calm himself before he clambered out of the bed, making sure not to disturb its other occupant. He drew his robes around him carelessly, eager to leave as quickly as possible, lest Tao awaken to the ruckus. Instead of risking a creak in the door, Yixing chose to climb out the already open window, tiptoeing across the room and picking up a chair to help him reach the sill.  
  
As he crouched half in and half out of the room, Yixing took a last regretful glance at the room and sighed, “What are you doing, Lay?” he asked himself out loud, barely above a whisper. He tucked a stray hair behind his ear as he dropped silently to the ground outside, toes curling at the cold concrete before he hurried towards his room again.  
  
\---  
  
Yifan froze in midstep, not sure what to make of the scene unfolding before him. He’d left Lay’s room when he’d woken up in the middle of the night to find the latter’s bed empty. Immediately, he’d searched his entire dwelling for Lay, but he wasn’t in the library or the kitchen. His work office and the aviary were empty and Yifan began to wander about his home aimlessly, trying to figure out where he hadn’t yet searched and whether Lay had decided once more to leave, though the guards at the front gate hadn’t seen him.  
  
He certainly would not have included his cousin’s room on his list of places to check and yet here he was, arms dropping limply to side and eyes widening as he watched Lay stumble out of Zitao’s bedroom window, clothes in such a state that made no illusions of what had transpired behind those closed doors. Yifan made no move to go after Lay, transfixed in place as he processed.  
  
Wasn’t it only a earlier today that Zitao had sat by his side, trying to comfort him about Lay? And wasn’t it only a few hours ago that Zitao had been campaigning for Yifan to figure out how to keep Lay from running away from him? Wasn’t Zitao the one who kept using the term _saozi_ for Lay even when Yifan corrected him repeatedly? _What in the hell was Zitao doing, bedding Lay?!_  
  
Yifan finally managed to take a slow step forward that turned brisk as the anger set in. He made no effort to conceal his irritation as he flung the doors to Zitao’s room open with a loud bang, roaring his cousin’s name as he marched straight to the bed, trying to dispel the sickening images of Lay wrapped up with his cousin in his head. “What is the meaning of this, Huang Zitao?! How dare you make a fool of me?”  
  
Zitao seemed to need a second to awaken, but when he did, his tone nearly matched Yifan’s as he let out a slew of expletives, “What in the fucking hell are you doing in my room?!”  
  
Yifan’s jaw locked and he could only glare with every other fiber of him held back from doling out a much deserved beating upon his cousin only because the need for an explanation surpassed his desire to punch Zitao in the nose. “You have a lot of explaining to do, you fucker,” he managed to bite out.  
  
\---  
  
Yixing didn't catch a single wink of sleep that night, laying awake in his bed and staring blindly somewhere between the legs of the table and its set of chairs. He'd just have to try harder in the morning.


	25. Chapter 25

Yixing let out a loud groan as a servant prodded him several times through the blankets. He couldn’t remember at what point he’d finally managed to fall asleep the night before, but it clearly felt it wasn’t too long ago. He let out a whine and pulled his blankets over his head before having them taking away gruffly by the servant. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight coming in through his window, he yawned and muttered an ‘Okay, okay, I’m up.”  
  
The previous day’s events flooded back at him and he groaned again, wondering why he hadn’t listened to his first instinct and gotten as far as he could from this place. As he hauled himself into an upright position, strings of pain shot through his temples and he grabbed his forehead in an effort to steady himself.  
  
Today was supposed to be the start of those so-called classes that the Duke’s mother was so keen on forcing on him and, having missed almost an entire night’s sleep, Yixing hardly had the energy to get up and pretend to be and act like someone he wasn’t. Even the servant who had been assigned to him at the moment seemed to disapprove, barely concealing the slight shake of her head as she laid out clothes on the bench at the other end of the room.  
  
With more effort that it really should’ve taken him if he’d had a good night sleep and wasn’t still hungover from the drinks last night, Yixing started on his feet only to end up falling in a jarring tumble to the floor. “Owww…,” he  mumbles, rubbing a particularly raw point on his knee until he noticed an all too familiar hand offering to help pull him up.  
  
“God, you’re a mess,” Tao remarked when Yixing was finally on his feet before chuckling in a way that only Tao could when Yixing pulled his hand back sharply as soon as he could stand on his own.  
  
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” Yixing managed to gather, though he was still having a hard time actually looking straight at Tao.  
  
“So,” Tao began, clearly in an effort to put Yixing at ease with casual conversation, “You ready for whatever my crazy aunt has in store for us?”  
  
Yixing didn’t offer up a reply, afraid that if he tried to open his mouth again, only bitter bile would come up in place of words. Besides, what he really wanted to say included foul language and a rude demand of what Tao’s business was in Yixing’s room. Instead, he swallowed his nerves and headed to the clothes laid out for him, sighing with unfamiliarity of having someone to tend to him steadily. He deigned, however, to accepting the help today; it’d been a while since he’d donned the socially accepted attire for his sex and this morning of all mornings was not the time for him to try to remember the proper layers and orders. He was also certainly appreciative of the subtle ‘ahem’ that the servant paid Tao, signalling for the latter to leave the room.  
  
“Let’s have breakfast together when you’re done, okay?” Tao suggested before taking his leave.  
  
Yixing didn’t reply, realising that despite waking up with an empty stomach, he didn’t feel hungry at all.  
  
\---  
  
It didn’t take very long for Yixing to notice the Duke’s absence.  
  
Despite his best efforts, Yixing found himself searching for the Duke after every ridiculous session (in equally ridiculous attire) - be it calligraphy, history, or politics - even when he kept reminding himself that he should really be looking for another opportunity to ditch this establishment. Instead, he often found himself in the company of Tao, given that the pair shared the same schedule of ridiculous classes.  
  
Their first day together, of course, was a combination of awkward silences and forced conversation that was insisted on being a reminder of Yixing’s previous night of bad decisions. And while Tao made no sign of having been affected by the events, Yixing had a hard time pretending he felt the same way. He was embarrassed, having made a fool of himself and not even the excuse that he’d been drunk at the time made it any better.  
  
The pair shared an interest in finding the best restaurant to eat in, and they wandered into a new establishment almost daily. While there were certainly a selection of good fare to be had, Yixing and Tao found twice as many places that were quite the opposite. On these occasions, they made a trip to retrieve a skewer of roast pork at the dully painted cart at the end of a line of similar mobiles that sold jewelry and other miscellany trinkets.  
  
Tao’s most admirable personality trait was probably his ability to make conversation so easy that Yixing simply forgot the embarrassment of rejection within the first day. Their shared revulsion for the teachings of whatever-professor-that-was and the terrible reasoning of the Duke’s mother’s demands made Tao easy to relate to.  
  
While Yixing couldn’t stand remembering how he’d climbed out of his own bed in horror when he saw the Duke resting in the chair beside him, or how Tao had stopped him from climbing into _his_ , he was partly thankful; If Tao hadn’t so adamantly proven his loyalty to his cousin, Yixing was certain there’d be no way he’d be able to share their current conversation about their favourite wine types; Yixing had forgotten what it was like to have a _friend_.  
  
Whenever Yixing was alone though, he often found himself getting drawn towards the Duke’s study where every scroll and ink brush lay untouched for days. He’d get annoyed with himself long enough to remove himself from the office only to find himself in front of the Duke’s bedroom; the Duke’s mother had banned his entry but had been nonspecific about peering through cracks between door panels or windows and their frames.  
  
“You can admit that you miss him, you know,” Tao piped up once, having caught Yixing in the study playing with the hairs on one of the writing brushes resting in its stand.  
  
Yixing spun abruptly, dropping the box’s lid with a clatter in a jerk reaction, scowling as Tao made himself at home with feet up on the table in the center of the room. Sometimes, he really regretted asking Tao that night to let him stay for a bit, just to get over his unease. He sighed with exasperation as he bent over to pick the fallen lid up off the floor.  
  
“I don’t bite, you know. Not unless you want me to, anyway,” Tao joked with a wink, pointing to the empty seat beside him at the table.  
  
“I don’t miss him,” Yixing shot back, though probably a little too forcefully to be honest. “I’m just tired from all these damn lessons,” he tried to explain, but judging by the sceptic look on Tao’s face, Yixing was fooling no one, and certainly not himself. He let out an indignant pout, but dropped into the seat across Tao.  
  
“Ah…, so instead of treating your _tiredness_ by taking a nap in your own bed, you decided to come into my cousin’s study and play with his calligraphy brushes?” Tao returned, mockery evident in his tone and his words.  
  
Yixing felt his cheeks flame up as he crossed his arms, head sinking past his shoulders. “Shut up,” was all he could come up with as he tugged on his robes, still not used to the relative roughness and heaviness of the cloth compared to his dresses.  
  
“He’ll be back tomorrow, so you can stop worrying,” Tao continued, frowning when he discovered the wine bottle in the center of the table was empty.  
  
“I’m not worried!” Yixing snapped back to a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Sure, sure,” Tao hummed, getting up to rummage through the shelves for anything to drink.  
  
Yixing growled low in his throat at the implication but couldn’t deny the skip in his chest that took place over the heaviness that had sat there for the last few days.  
  
“I’m still rooting for you two, by the way. Even if it’s less than two more weeks until-”Tao continued, stopping himself in mid-sentence only too late. He stood up straight, suspending his search, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”  
  
Yixing swallowed and shook his head, “No, it’s fine.” Yixing had actually momentarily forgotten about the imminent wedding, his mind having been recently occupied with anxious thoughts about the Duke’s unknown whereabouts. “That’s always been part of the deal, right?”  
  
 _‘Deal’? What ‘deal’?_ Yixing laughed to himself sardonically, _The deal where the Duke’s mother hates my guts and forces me into silly outfits? In return for what?_  
  
Tao cleared his throat loudly, as if he knew Yixing needed to be distracted from his own thoughts, “You getting hungry? Cus I am _starving_. I’m going to see what I can steal from the kitchen, wanna join?”  
  
Yixing swallowed hard, “No, thanks,” he declined, though he could do with the distraction from his resurfacing worries that he’d foolishly forgotten about. There was also that sneaky suspicion that surfaced every so often that Tao’s continual presence around Yixing was on purpose, as if Tao had made it his mission to make sure Yixing didn’t try to run away, again (he didn’t like to admit though, that he was thankful for the excuse for his ‘failures’ to escape, though could he use that term if he hadn’t tried since?).  
  
“You sure? Heard from one of the guys that Yifan’s mother ordered up her fave. They they only serve her the best looking pieces of cake, but we both know it’s really the mis-shapen and imperfect ones that are best.”  
  
Yixing looked up and eyed Tao suspiciously, wary of the words he’d spoken, wondering if the last bit about ‘imperfect’ had been just for him. Dispelling the thought, he shook his head again, “I think I’ll stay here a while longer. I, uh, I like the smell of the books,” he tried, though the excuse sounded weak even to himself.  
  
Tao rolled his eyes, “Fine, but don’t mess anything up if you don’t want my cousin jumping down your throat for shifting his brush half a finger’s width. Unless, you know, that’s what you _want_.” He grinned toothily with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  
  
Yixing scowled, “You know what, fine, let’s just go see what there is in the kitchen,” he accepted reluctantly, pushing past Tao to the door with the latter laughing behind him.  
  
*  
  
“I knew from the moment I set eyes on you that you were hopeless,” the Duke’s mother reprimanded with pursed lips as she used her folded up fan to prod Yixing in the back, a signal to get him to stand straighter.  
  
Yixing’s teeth ground together but he bit his tongue and corrected his posture all the same. There was no point in getting into a fight with her now; it wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected this from her when she’d forced him into these “lessons” of hers.  
  
“It’s like he was _born_ to be a begger, back hunched over all the time,” she muttered, directing her speech at a servant as if they were equals, above Yixing. “What my son sees in him, I’ll never know,” she continued absently while shaking her head. The servant’s eyes flickered quickly up to Yixing and then away again, hanging her head deeply without offering any kind of reply to the Duke’s mother.  
  
Perhaps it was the hot weather, or having to constantly wear these uncomfortable clothes, or the fact that this woman seemed to be in control of all the aspects of his life for the past week, or perhaps it was all of the above combined, but mention of the Duke pushed the last of Yixing’s patience and he dropped his hands to his side. He’d been in an increasingly annoyed state since the Duke’s return two and a half days ago (he wasn’t keeping track, of course), though he wasn’t sure why (it certainly wasn’t because he’d been getting the distinct feeling that the Duke was avoiding him).  
  
“Who the hell is going to care if I can walk with my hands in my goddamned sleeve?” Yixing spat loudly, “It’s a stupid way of walking anyway. And I’m _so sorry_ that I’m such a street rat, but hey, that is where I came from, so why don’t I do us _both_ a favour and get the fuck out of this hell hole?!” He spun in his heel and headed purposely to the room’s exit, pausing at the table to topple the stack of history books the Duke’s mother had been using earlier this morning to test Yixing’s knowledge of their country’s history.  
  
Yixing didn’t care that he’d just given the Duke’s mother the satisfaction of watching him finally crack. Besides, what would it matter? Why did he have to put up with this woman’s insanely unachieveable demands, especially if the Duke was most likely going to evict Yixing from his home in a few days anyway? He tore the annoying hat that the Duke’s mother had made him wear off his head and tossed it into the garden before rushing past alarmed guards and right out the front door.  
  
\---  
  
“What?!” Yifan’s roar echoed dangerously in his office, making the messenger who delivered the news about Lay’s departure jump and take a precautionary step backwards. “And you didn’t stop him?!” Yifan demanded, standing tall from his desk and slamming his brush into its cradle, sending ink splattering across his desk and ruining his pages. Yifan saw from the corner of his eye Minseok scramble to clean it up beside him, but he waved him away; what was a little spill on his papers when compared to _Lay disappearing again_?  
  
“We-we were instructed by your mother to stand clear,” the messenger replied, head bowed as far as he could get.  
  
 _Of course_ , Yifan scowled, trying not to completely lose his composure. He took a deep breath and tried again, his suddenly calm tone sending chills even down his own spine, “And where is my mother now?”  
  
“My Lady is taking a lunch in the dining room.”  
  
 _Lunch, she was taking_ lunch in the dining room. Yifan’s teeth ground together and heard Minseok behind him whisper a quiet “My Lord” as if to remind him to remain calm. “You’re dismissed,” he managed to get out in an acceptable tone, relieving the flustered messenger (who scampered away more quickly than usual after bowing) from his office.  
  
“Lunch?” Yifan exclaimed at the room, sending Minseok a misplaced angered look before rounding the table and heading towards the door himself, “She’s eating _lunch!”_  
  
As was his specialty, Zitao most inopportunely opened the door after a brief knock (not bothering to be acknowledged before speaking). “Uh, dunno if you were made aware yet, but _saozi_ just vacated the premises. You planning on doing something about it?”  
  
“Aren’t you two in the same class?! How could you let him go like that?!” Yifan scowled, shoving his shoulder against Zitao’s as he headed towards the dining room.  
  
“Hey, don’t blame this on me,” Zitao defended, an intrigued arch in his eyebrow as he turned to follow Yifan, “If you’d been around since you got back, you’d know that _sao zi_ and I don’t share all the same classes. Your mother likes to personally make our lives miserable by giving us one-on-one sessions from Hell.”  
  
Yifan hissed, almost tripping on a twig as he hurried towards the wing on the opposite side of the manor, but there was nothing he could say to that point. “Stop calling him that,” he grumbled instead.  
  
*  
  
“What the hell did you do?” Yifan thundered as he pushed open the dining room doors, barging into the room unceremoniously with complete disregard for proper etiquette. Servants scrambled to greet him properly but Yifan waved them off, demanding to be left alone with his mother, “Leave us.”  
  
“Pardon me?” his mother replied, looking up with a painted look of shock on her face that barely concealed her amusement as she put down her chopsticks. “You can all stay.”  
  
Yifan had momentarily forgotten how powerful his mother’s voice could get and his eyes narrowed as several of the servants, including his mother’s personal attendant, stood frozen in place, trying to determine who was worse to defy.  
  
Zitao, who had never had any problems disobeying _anyone_ , was the first to react, “We really don’t need, or frankly _want_ to be in this room right now,” he explained as he ushered everyone out, having to physically remove the last of them. Yifan had little doubt that even though his cousin was the one volunteering to leave him alone with his mother, he had his ear pressed up against the door to eavesdrop, potentially with Minseok beside him.  
  
“You heard me, Mother, _what the hell did you do?_ ” Yifan repeated, stepping and inch away from the table where his mother sat.  
  
Mother looked up at son, a poor representation of shock and confusion on her features, “I’m afraid I have no idea to what you are referring.”  
  
Yifan rolled his eyes, “Drop the act, Mother. I know it was intent right from the beginning to use any means to get rid of Lay. So just tell me, what did you do?”  
  
His mother got up carefully to walk around the table and face Yifan at his level, “ _As I said_ , I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about,” she pressed, tone turning haughty, “Your whore of a friend just couldn’t handle the truth of his situation, I guess. That’s hardly my fault.” She folded her arms on her chest, “And when and where on earth did you learn to speak to your mother in such a tone? I did not raise you to be a brute.”  
  
Yifan took a careful step towards his mother, anger brimming and threatening to spill violently, “No, you brought me up to be _exactly_ this. Didn’t you teach me to fight for what is right? And to find happiness? When Lay makes me happy and he _is_ right, right for _me_. So please, just stop all this; I let you go on with your way at first because I thought you’d get it out of your system and get over it, but clearly not.  
  
“As of right now, Lay is done being you little puppet to sing and dance for you as you please. You are done criticising everything about him and if you become the reason I lose him for good this time, _I won’t forgive you_.”  
  
Yifan almost regretted the way his words had turned his mother’s face white as a ghost, eyes wide in shock, but he ground his teeth together in determination; it had to be said. He took a step back and both let out a breath held over the confrontation. He turned on his heel and left in the same manner he arrived, pausing at the door only to give a final warning, “And for the last time, Lay is _not_ a whore. I won’t correct you again.”  
  
Yifan swung the dining room doors to have his cousin nearly fall on him. Zitao made no effort to pretend that he _hadn’t_ eavesdropped on the entire exchange and grinned as he stepped back from the door he’d had his ears pressed against. “Wow,” Zitao exclaimed as he brought his hands together to applaud. “I didn’t think you had it in you to confront the dragon lady like that. Colour me impressed,” he chuckled.  
  
Yifan glared at Zitao as he hurried back to his office, Minseok in tow. “Don’t call her that,” Yifan snapped despite his behaviour only moments ago, “She’s my mother.”  
  
Zitao rolled his eyes, “Good, not that we’ve established that your mother-son relationship is still intact, maybe you should be sending people to look for _sao zi_?”  
  
“Would you _please_ stop calling Lay that?”  
  
“Well, I think it says something that you automatically know I’m talking about Lay and not Ah Mei when I mention _sao zi_.”  
  
Yifan scowled, pushing away the reminder of his betrothal to Al Mei to the back of his mind for the moment; he needed to focus on finding Lay before anything else. He chose to ignore the comment, falling back on the earlier conversation instead, “Where do you think I’m going now? Come on, make yourself useful for once in your life.”  
  
“I’m going to ignore that jab since I know you’re in a foul mood and you don’t really mean it,” Zitao chirped as he fell into step beside Yifan, who only growled at his attitude. Zitao cleared his throat and stopped, “Yup, okay, I’m going. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”


	26. Chapter 26

“One please, and with extra sauce,” Yixing requested of the vendor from whom he was purchasing a skewere of barbequed squid, “Like enough that it’ll probably drip all over and ruin my clothes,” he instructed further, grinning when the vendor raised a skeptical eyebrow but did as he was asked. “Perfect,” Yixing chirped as he handed over some change. His fingers were all immediately sticky and he delightfully wiped them clean on his clothes, soiling the expensive cloth right in front of the cart owner who only shook his head in disbelief.  
  
“Thanks!” Yixing continued to grin as he turned away to take a seat on the ground, taking care to squirm an extra couple of times to make sure that the dirt took on the rear of his outfit. He stopped at the whispers of passers-by who shot his several alarmed looks. It was unseemly for someone wearing his quality of clothes to be acting the way that he way and Yixing realised that he probably shouldn’t care, given this refreshing feeling of _freedom_ , but years of working at _The Star_ made him immediately turn red with regret. He didn’t have a lot to his name (especially having left whatever he _did_ have back at the Duke’s manor) save maybe his reputation and his image which he was very literally rubbing dirt on.  
  
Clearing his throat and pretending to be nonchalant about his state, he stood and brushed himself off, though what he really wanted desperately was to properly defile this awful thing forced upon him by the Duke’s mother. He ducked quickly into a nearby alley, put the skewer between his teeth to free his hands and climbed a pile of empty boxes and barrels until he could reach the roof of the closest building.  
  
Yixing stood at the peak for a moment, skewer in hand as he took a deep breath, appreciating the feeling of no one noticing or even realising who and where he was. With a relieved sigh, he finally sat down, “Alone at last,” he mumbled to himself, pulling his knees into his chest and tucking his chin between them. He hardly wanted to, given his current mood, but his gaze shifted towards the Duke’s home, looking grand as it stood before the bustling town below. His chipper mood was suddenly dampened as the realist of his situation set in: he’s just made a grand gesture to leave and after raising his voice and yelling at the Duke’s mother the way that he did, Yixing doubted he’d ever be welcomed by the Duke.  
  
 _It’s probably for the better_ , Yixing thought to himself. It was only a matter of days before the Duke would have to kick him to the curb anyway, so why prolong the wait? Besides, Yixing had yet to see the Duke alone even once since his return from the Forbidden City. Sure, he’d caught the odd glimpse here and here of the Duke hurrying from one room to another, a slew of servants or other guests behind him, but Yixing had hardly managed to tell him even a simple hello.  
  
It seemed obvious to him that the Duke had already grown tired of Yixing and was regretting his rash decision to buy Yixing out of his contract to Lady Pearl. Perhaps the Duke would be glad to finally be rid of Yixing without needing to do anything himself.  
  
A sharp pain shot through his chest and Yixing lost his appetite for the food he’d just purchased with such gusto. He set the skewer down to press his hand into his chest, kicking his legs out so that he could bend over slightly, as if it might ease the sting. The idea of never seeing the Duke, nay being _hated_ by the Duke bothered him, and it was high time he admitted to himself what that meant.  
  
How? How did he let this happen? And when?  
  
Even after keeping his guard up and his hopes down upon their initial introductions, how could he have been so careless to let the Duke into his heart? His grip tightened around the cloth over his chest and he closed his eyes tightly.  
  
“Really? First taste of freedom and you come _here_? If I were you, I’d be _at_ _least_ ten miles from here by now.” Tao’s voice rang behind him jovially and Yixing’s eyes shot open with bitter alarm. He’d been so excited by the idea of ruining these clothes that he had forgotten that this very location was where he and Tao had routinely visited in the last few days after a string of less than savory dishes.  
  
Yixing wiped his face in a hurry - he didn’t even know when he’d first shed tears - but he doubted that he was quick enough to hide it from Tao when he settled down next to him.  
  
“I’m not here to bring you back, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  
  
Yixing kept quiet. Of course Tao wasn’t here to ‘bring him back’, since there was no where to go back _to_.  
  
“Ah, we’re back to the silent treatment again, are we?” Tao continued softly even as he joked, “Thought we got past that with our mutual distaste for my aunt’s lessons and her choice of well… _everything_.”  
  
Yixing could tell that Tao was only trying to make conversation, to make their exchange run-of-the-mill casual, but Yixing wished the man would just say what he had come up here to say.  
  
With a sigh resigned to accepting that this would be a one-sided conversation, Tao continued, “Well, I guess if you won’t talk, I will.  
  
“I can’t honestly say I’ve been around Yifan enough to see all sides of him, but ever since we’ve been kids, he’s always been the stand-up son, always doing the right thing and happy to do so. He was kind of a weird kid, if you thought about it, never cried when he fell and cut his knee, never got angry when his cousin stole his toys. He was never particularly emotional even as we got older. I mean sure, he’d throw the occasionally disgusted comment my way about my boots, but he never really got worked up.  
  
“But today, when he found out you had left this afternoon, well, that was probably as close to completely losing his composure as I’d ever seen. He fought for you, you know? I’ve never known him to defy his mother and he did it today _for you._  
  
“I’m promising you right now, as your friend, that I won’t tell anyone I found you, but whatever the hell it is that’s holding you back, you need to snap out of it. I know you love him, and as much as I love him too, you need to make this choice for yourself.”  
  
Tao finally finished, getting to his feet and getting ready to clamber down to the ground again, “Just, you know, don’t take too long. There’s that wedding in a few days.”  
  
Yixing swallowed hard at the lump in his throat as he watched Tao’s form disappear under the roof.  
  
 _Yeah, who could forget?_  
  
\---  
  
“You did _what_?!” Yifan could almost _kill_ his cousin at the moment.  
  
“Quite honestly, I thought he would be back by now,” Zitao tried to explain, looking sheepish.  
  
“Well, he _isn’t_ ,” Yifan yelled, not caring that his office’s window was wide open and his voice could likely be heard in the adjacent wing. “What the hell gave you the idea that waiting three days to tell me this news was a good thing?! How could you just leave him there? _Why didn’t you bring him back with you?!_ ” The Duke resisted the urge to pick up his chair and launch it at his cousin.  
  
“What do you want me to say, Yifan?” Zitao shot back, “That I regret not having knocked him over the head? Are you saying I should have thrown his unconscious body over my shoulder and strolled through town back here so that he could be trapped here with your mother again? I’m sorry, cousin, but as much you love him, he’s also my _friend_ and I saw how upset he was here.”  
  
Yifan let out a sound that was something between a groan and a distraught howl before he fell limply into the chair he had almost thrown across his study, “And what about me then? You remember, your cousin?”  
  
Zitao rolled his eyes and turned to search the table behind him for a bottle of wine before falling into the seat across from Yifan, “Despite what you’re about to say, I know for a _fact_ that you would’ve hated to see Yixing come back to you like that.” He poured a healthy amount of wine into two cups before sliding one across the table towards YIfan.  
  
Yifan’s fingers curled into a fist on the table. “With him here though, I could at least try to fix…” he started, voice shrinking at each syllable.  
  
“Fix what?” Zitao interrupted before knocking his cup back in a single gulp, “The fact that you’ve gotta marry a general’s daughter for political reasons?” He poured himself another, “And how exactly are you going to do that? Because the way I see it, anything you come up with is going to piss off the general, and in turn, _the Emperor_.”  
  
Yifan growled and, annoyed at the irrefutable logic that he had no response to, grabbed the cup that Zitao had passed him earlier and followed his example, wincing as he signalled Zitao for more.  
  
“I’ll find him,” he announced with determination after guzzling a third cup, “I’ll make damn sure of it, even if it’s the last thing I do. And I _am_ going to fix this somehow.”  
  
“I know,” Zitao chuckled as he brought his cup up for a toast, “You look like shit, by the way.”  
  
Yifan narrowed his eyes as he downed his fourth, “Yeah, well how about you try not sleeping for three nights, let’s see how you good you look then.”  
  
\---  
  
Yixing stood at the end of the street that stretched in front of the gates to the Duke’s home, several hundred meters back from today’s guards who looked unfamiliar. He wondered momentarily if the Duke might’ve dismissed those previously at the post for failing to apprehend Yixing as he blew past them a few days ago. He shook his head and reminded himself what he was here to do and it wasn’t to imagine impossible scenarios. He shifted on his feet, hesitating repeatedly to put one in front of the other.  
  
 _Move_ , he scolded himself, gripping the package firmly in his arms and taking a deep breath. It took another half a dozen attempts, but Yixing finally got himself to emerge from his hiding spot to head towards the guards.  
  
“Can we help you, miss?” one of the guards asked when Yixing stopped before them.  
  
A slight upward tick made its way onto Yixing’s lips; at least these two didn’t seem to recognize. He was glad that he’d managed to convince one of the less vindictive girls at _The Star_ (news of the Duke’s impending marriage was village wide and most of the girls had merely snickered mockingly when he’d showed up on the doorstep) to give him a couple of her old items that she never used any more. Sure, this dress’ colours weren’t as nice as he’d like, but they were still far better than the alternative wrapped up in the package in his arms at the moment.  
  
After Tao had left him on that rooftop, Yixing had contemplated numerously to come to this very spot, perhaps to beg to be let back in. Unfortunately, he found no possible good (or at least non-self-hate-inducing) end to the whole affair. He’d hid away, tempted by blades to his wrist before the Duke’s voice came back at him every time, _“I think that you’re perfect exactly the way you are.”_  
  
It might be true that he could finally admit to himself that he cared deeply for the Duke, but his current situation could only end poorly for him. The Duke’s wedding to that lovely girl was still going to happen and there was little doubt that the Duke’s mother still hated Yixing. There was also the whole nobleman act that just wasn’t to Yixing’s taste nor to his strength.  
  
No, the best way to end this was _to end this._  
  
Yixing took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “I have a package My Lord,” he announced, alarmed at the confidence in his tone that he didn’t quite share in his quivering heart.  
  
The guard eyed Yixing suspiciously, not moving a muscle to take the bundle in Yixing’s arms. “All deliveries should be made at-” he explained.  
  
“Yes, I know,” Yixing interjected, “But this is a personal delivery.”  
  
“I’m sorry, miss, we do not-”  
  
“I know,” Yixing interrupted again, reminded of how difficult it had been last time he tried to return clothing to the Duke’s manor, when he’d still been tied to _The Star_. “You can have it checked, I promise it’s harmless,” he pressed, though both guards hesitated to do anything, looking to each other for guidance.  
  
Yixing stood for another awkward moment before deciding to simply place the package on the ground and let the men decide when he’d left whether to accept his request or have the whole thing disposed of. Either conclusion would be enough for Yixing; he’d be rid of the items either way. He’d done his part, feeling guilty about dirtying such fine threads and cleaning up the entire outfit so that he could return it properly. There was no point in keeping something he’d never use anyway, especially when it reminded him of _her_ spite.  
  
“And please tell him thank you, too,” he bowed deeply before turning away hurriedly.  
  
\---  
  
Sorry to interrupt your lunch, My Lord, but a delivery has been made,” Minseok announced.  
  
Yifan was grateful for the distraction; every minute of this lunch his mother had organized with the General only served to constantly remind him that he had yet to find Lay. And instead of looking for him, he was stuck _here_ , pretending that the food wasn’t tasteless and the General’s jokes were actually funny.  
  
“Can’t  it wait?” Yifan’s mother snapped, apologizing to the general for Minseok’s irresponsible interruption.  
  
“It’s important,” Minseok pressed, sending a furtive look at Yifan as if the latter should understand what his manservant was trying to say about the delivery.  Yifan’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion, urging silently for Minseok to elaborate; he was sure Minseok was aware of how _little_ Yifan wanted to be at this lunch, but his manservant was surely smarter than to try to get Yifan out of it with a fake emergency that his mother would catch onto immediately.  
  
“Please excuse me for a moment.” Yifan got up and proceeded out the dining room door wordlessly until the doors were closed. “What is it?” he all but hissed; his mother was still giving him the cold shoulder for his outburst and while he’d been just as adamant about his stance on the matter, he didn’t need any more reason to annoy her before he could find Lay.  
  
Minseok ignored the Duke’s tone and signalled urgently for another nearby servant to hold out whatever delivery that had Minseok so excited. “You should open then, _now_.”  
  
Yifan undid the knot holding the bundle together and pulled away the cloth to reveal an unfamiliar set of men’s clothes. They looked used and it baffled the Duke as to why someone thought that it might be flattering to gift him old clothes. “Is this some kind of joke? What the hell is so important about _old clothes_?!”  
  
“Look closer,” was all Minseok said, pointing towards something in the middle of the folded pile that Yifan had missed earlier, a glint of gold tucked away in the collar.  
  
Yifan reached out to pull away the cloth, exposing strings of gold that finished with pearl drops, something that he knew could only belong to one person. The Duke felt the colour drain from his face before red hot excitement climbed into his chest. He picked up the hair ornament gingerly, afraid that it might break or disappear if he grabbed it too quickly. The metal was cold in his palm and as the realisation that he wasn’t actually dreaming, that what he had in his hand was _real,_ his fist closed, knuckles whitening as gripped the accessory like a life line. “How long ago was this delivered?” Yifan asked brusquely and, deciding that the General’s lunch would have to wait, headed in the direction of his front gates.  
  
“Only a few moments ago,” Minseok answered quickly before he grabbed the Duke around the elbow to hold him back. “But My Lord, you should probably finish your lunch.”  
  
Face flushed with blotchy and angry red, Yifan barely noticed the sting of the gold cutting into his skin as his grip deepened, “I don’t care about a goddamn lunch, I’m not even hungry. I have to go find him, he can’t have gone very far.”  
  
“I know,” Minseok replied with a calm that was starting to get on the Duke’s nerves; how could Minseok tell him that food was more important than finding Lay right now? “But the General doesn’t take to offense very well.”  
  
Yifan ground his teeth together and stopped pulling against Minseok’s firm hold around his arm. He knew Minseok was right, but he just so badly wanted to ignore it. He had to go back, Yifan have to go back to make sure that his relationship with the general was intact, especially given what he wanted to do in the next couple of days. “Shit,” he muttered, shoulders sagging in realisation, “I really hate it when you’re right.”  
  
Minseok managed a smile when he realised that his master was back to himself once more, “I know.”  
  
Reluctantly, Yifan headed back to the dining room, pausing in front of the door before opening it.”You let me know the _instant_ you find him, okay?” He waited for Minseok to give him a nod before he pushed the door open, hand still wrapped tightly around the hair ornament as he apologized and sat down once more in his seat.  
  
*  
  
Yifan could barely focus the rest of the lunch, though it didn’t seem to phase the General, who continued telling stories with a loud and animated voice. His daughter, on the other hand, seemed to pick up on Yifan’s metaphorical absence the moment he’d stepped back through the doors. Ah Mei had asked in a low whisper if he was okay at a particularly loud point in the General’s story when his attention was focused on the Duke’s mother, who interjected at appropriate times to encourage the General.  
  
Yifan had answered with a simple ‘of course’ followed with a smile as he took a bite of beef; it wasn’t as if he could tell his fiance, of all people, that what was eating at him was the disappearance of his lover. Ah Mei had offered a sympathetic look, clearly not believing his words, and reached under the table to grab Yifan’s hand to give it a comforting squeeze.  
  
Yifan swallowed the guilty bile climbing up his throat and pulled his hand away; what he wanted to do with the general, he was going to be doing to her too.  
  
*  
  
“What took you so long?!” Yifan almost shouted when Minseok finally showed his face. The Duke had been pacing in his bedroom since lunch, waiting impatiently for _any_ news of Lay’s whereabouts. The General, his daughter, and Yifan’s mother had gone out shopping after lunch, with the Duke citing work that had to been done in order to get out of the excursion. His mother had given him a dirty look, clearly seeing through the weak excuse but the General seemed to buy the story, exclaiming how hardworking Yifan was and how lucky this village was to have him to look over them. Ah Mei had simply given Yifan an understanding nod before following her father.  
  
“My apologies, My Lord, but I had to be sure,” Minseok replied, sauntering into the room slowly, most likely on purpose just to annoy the Duke further.  
  
Yifan growled, “Make sure of what?”  
  
“That he wasn’t leaving again,” Minseok replied simply, offering up no further information.  
  
“Leaving? What?” If Yifan didn’t appreciate Minseok’s work as much as he did, he might’ve hit him, but he stayed his hand.  “If you found him, why didn’t you bring him back with you?”  
  
Minseok raised an amused eyebrow, “Excuse me, My Lord, but what then? Hold him prisoner in your home? That’s rather tactless, don’t you think?” He shook his head side to side, mocking the Duke.  
  
Minseok had always been right about things and the Duke trusted him wholeheartedly, but, at the moment, Yifan wanted to throttle him until he spilled all the information he had about Lay’s whereabouts. “Kim Minseok,” he addressed firmly, voice almost rising to a full roar, “You tell me where he is. Right. Now. I am not losing him again.”  
  
Minseok, as expected, barely flinched at the raised voice. Instead, he began to smile, and Yifan swore that if his manservant didn’t explain himself before his next heartbeat, he was going to kill him.  
  
\---  
  
Yixing sat with his dress pulled up past his knees, feet hanging under him in the pond and making circles in the water. He let out a long sigh, a subtle smile tugging at his lips as he watched the ripples push into the lotuses peacefully.  
  
Admittedly, Yixing really shouldn’t be staying here, but he still had the key and he really didn’t have anywhere else to stay; he certainly wasn’t going back the _The Star_. He tried to remind himself that he couldn’t stay long; this place wasn’t his to simply squat in. Besides, while it started as a perk that he could almost still catch the scent of the Duke within the walls, he knew he had to eventually leave. It wasn’t good to dwell on the impossible and the past. _Just until I can get my own place_ , he’d promised himself, though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the step down from this scenery.  
  
Yixing let out another wistful sigh and leaned back, supported by only his arms behind him. As he stared up at the sky, he wondered when he last enjoyed seeing clouds push across the vast blue expanse. He knew he’d have to figure out a job somehow, but at the moment, he allowed himself to simply close his eyes and let the warm sun beat down on his face.  
  
A song he used to dance to started playing in his head and he hummed along, fingers tapping behind him until the urge to get up took him. The stone was warm under his damp feet and he submitted to muscle memory, placing one foot in front of the other, then back and crossing over so he could spin, arms thrown up on either side. A laugh escaped his lips, surprising even himself, but he continued, eyes closed as he let his feet take him where they took him.  
  
“Lay?”  
  
The familiar voice shattered whatever reverie he’d held in his head as he twirled. His eyes snapped open as he came out of a spin, arms still held up as his eyebrows stitched together in worried realisation.


	27. Chapter 27

Yifan stood in front of doors with red paint peeling off the front, trying to remember the last time he’d been here. He’d been worried about Lay then too, he mused, noting the similarities. Perhaps this location would become a symbol of how much Yifan wanted to take care of Lay, to protect him. He’d rather forgotten that the key to this home in the woods was still in Lay’s possession, having left it with the latter what seemed like an eternity ago, when he’d still belonged to _The Star_.  
  
The Duke hadn’t been sure if Minseok was simply playing a joke on him when he told Yifan that _this_ was where Lay had been located. Even when Minseok reassured him that he was not just pulling the Duke’s leg, Yifan didn’t know what to make of it all. The returned items had made Yifan believe that Lay no longer wanted anything to do with him, so why on earth would he be staying at a place that Yifan owned after such a statement to disappear from the Duke’s life?  
  
He’d argued with himself the entire journey here: perhaps Lay was using the hair ornament as a message for Yifan to come to Lay himself? But why didn’t Lay simply tell the guards who he was when he dropped off the clothes?  
  
Was this a puzzle that Lay meant for him to solve? But what was the puzzle? It wasn’t as if any clues about Lay’s whereabouts had been left in the package. The only item left behind was the Duke’s gift, and never had Yifan felt a clearer message about finding it left behind in the old robes: _goodbye_.  
  
A rather paranoid thought about the ornament being a lure to trap Yifan here so that Lay could kill him crossed his mind, but the Duke chalked that thought up to the lack of sleep these past few days. He tried not to think about the possibility too much, though his mind still wandered there thrice on his way here.  
  
Yifan stood rather statue-like in front of the doors as all the arguments made their closing statement in his mind before he shook his head forcefully; he’d simply have to ask Lay when he finally saw him.  
  
The doors were slightly ajar, welcoming the Duke but despite his eagerness and desperation to find Lay these past few days, Yifan found himself hesitating to enter now. He took a deep breath several times to calm himself before he finally brought his hand up to push open the gate, meeting little resistance as it swung open. Brows furrowed together, he tried to recall the weight of the door the last time he’d been here with Lay and he could almost swear it had been heavy with the lack of use. Had Lay cleaned up here since his stay?  
  
Sure enough, as Yifan pressed the gate open further, he noticed the walkway clear of leaves, washed clean of the dirt that should have collected there since his last visit. More questions as to Lay’s intentions washed up into his brain and his pace quickened. He was nearly jogging by the time he reached the door, swinging it open eagerly.  
  
“Lay?” the Duke called into the room as he barged in, stopping to look left and right  before his gaze settled across the empty room through the back doors towards the pond. Lay was on one foot, other suspended slightly off the stone terrace, clearly having been in the middle of some action before he ended up frozen on the spot, eyes now wide with disbelief.  
  
Yifan took an uneasy step forward, forcing himself to blink so as to convince himself that Lay was not a mirage, simply brought to existence from his memory by a lack of sleep.  
  
One.  
  
Two.  
  
Three.  
  
Each step brought Yifan closer and their pace quickened until he was finally face to face with Lay (still standing awkwardly with his arms out). He waited but a moment to pinch himself before a relieved half-smile tugged onto his face. He automatically pulled Lay in for a hug, pulling the latter off his feet, “It’s you, it’s really you, you’re really here,” he breathed, eyes squeezing shut in relief.  
  
It didn’t matter that Lay’d body remained stiff, that he didn’t seem eager to return the Duke’s affection. All that mattered at the moment was that Lay was actually here in his arms. He tightened his embrace, scared that if he let go even a little, Lay might evaporate into nothing and he’d have to repeat the pain of the last few days again.  
  
It was a silent moment before Lay finally spoke, barely a whisper. “You’re hurting me,” he said flatly, trying to pull away.  
  
Yifan let go hastily, stepping back only enough to run his quickly to check that he hadn’t really caused Lay any physical damage. Lay kept his eyes averted, looking somewhere to the left of the Duke, fingers playing at the edge of his sleeves. It wasn’t until Yifan took the hair ornament from inside his robes to hold before Lay that the latter finally flinched and stepped back. He turned around abruptly and dropped to take a seat pondside, letting his feet hang into the water and scattering the koi fish.  
  
“Why’d you give this back?” Yifan asked, speaking at Lay’s back softly.  
  
Shoulders came up in a shrug, “You bought it with your money, so I was only returning what was yours.”  
  
“Do you have a habit of returning gifts?” Yifan continued, remembering when he’d caught Lay trying to return the clothes that Minseok had gifted Lu Han. Lay’s silence only serves to bring about Yifan’s impatience, “Do you return all your clients’ gifts?” he pressed tersely, regretting the comment immediately when Lay flinched visibly and hung his head.  
  
Yifan sighed, berating himself; he knew he needed to be patient with Lay, but he was starting to grow tired of the silence. He missed the sound of Lay’s voice in his ear.  
  
He crouched down to sit cross-legged beside Lay. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it come out that way,” he apologized softly, pressing a hand to the other’s shoulder only to pull it back when he felt Lay try to shift away under his fingertips. He choked back the hurt of the action but moved back a couple hairs, hoping the distance might be enough to keep Lay from taking off running again.  
  
“Why did you return this?” he tried again, holding out the accessory and keeping his voice as gentle as he could.  
  
Lay didn’t bother turning around, “I told you,” he bit out, “You bought it.”  
  
“Alright, fine. Then _how_ did you return it?”  
  
“What do you mean, _how_?” Lay’s impatient and dismissive voice cut painfully into Yifan’s chest, “I walked it to your front gate.”  
  
Yifan swallowed as he readied himself for his next question, anxiety tearing at his insides, but hoping the answer might be what he gravely desired. “Yes. And it arrived with a bundle of _men’s clothes_. Men’s clothes that I’ve been told you were wearing the day you stormed out of my home. With your hair done up like a man.” He paused to watch Lay draw his legs out of the water and pull them into his chest. Lay’s arms came up to wrap around his head that he tucked between his knees. “Unless I was told incorrectly, when you yelled at my mother, you left immediately without stopping by your room.” Yifan ignored the shaking and the barely audible pleas for him to stop; he needed answers. “Unless you somehow managed to _break into my manor_ when all my guards were on alert to find you…”  
  
“Stop, just please stop.”  
  
Yifan swallowed hard again, and despite the urge to simply give in so Lay would stop rocking back and forth, that muffled sound coming from him a definite sob, he pressed on. “Lay, you had to be _carrying this with you the entire time_ for you to be able to return it with those clothes.”  
  
Lay finally turned around to glare at Yifan, eyes bloodshot and narrowed, “Shut _up_. What do you know, anyway? You didn’t even see me that day, or even the day before, or the day before _that_! How could you know I didn’t have it hidden somewhere?”  
  
“Then why did you grab it on your way out then?” Yifan asked, though he was only entertaining Lay’s illogical retort now. With the way Lay was acting, he calmed down, realising that all the scenarios he had run through his head could not compete with the truth now.  
  
Lay held his angry gaze, turning away only when he noticed the tear that had started to run down his cheek. He rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek before tucking it behind him for support.  
  
Yifan looked down at Lay’s hand, the back of it twinkling in the sunlight from the tears. He leaned his forward to lean his forehead on Lay’s shoulder, fingers reaching out to wrap around Lay’s wrist. Yifan was glad for the momentary victory of Lay not immediately pulling away at his touch. “Why did you have this when you left?” he tried again.  
  
“I don’t know,” Lay persisted, though the bite in his tone was gone.  
  
Yifan pulled away only enough so that he reach up with a finger to hook under Lay’s chin and turn the latter to face him. Lay still resolutely refused to look at Yifan, choosing to stare down at the stone terrace. “Lay?” Yifan continued to try, ducking his head until he could look up at Lay, forcing the latter to finally make eyes contact. “Please?”  
  
Lay’s gaze flickers and is suddenly filled with something that makes Yifan’s chest tighten.  
  
“I missed you,” Lay finally admitted before eyelids closed with resignation, tears falling freely now, “Is that what you wanted to hear me say?”  
  
 _Yes_ , Yifan wanted to say. It’d been what he’d been wanting to hear from Lay ever since he invited the courtesan to his party. Instead, he slid towards Lay and drew him close in an embrace again, the smaller finally leaning in and gripping the front of Yifan’s silks. The front of his clothes became wet with Lay’s tears and the Duke found himself stroking Lay’s hair slowly, trying to comfort the mess he’d been the cause of in the first place. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into Lay’s hair.  
  
Lay’s grip grew tighter as he spoke again, voice shaking in between sobs, “I kept that stupid thing in my shirt because it reminded me of when you used to pay me some kind of attention, even it had just been _paid time_. You came home from that stupid trip and you didn’t even say hi in the two days you’d been back. You didn’t even say bye before you left! Your cousin was the one to find me, _not you._ _He_ was the one that made me think that I should at least _try_ with your mother.”   
  
Lay stopped to catch his breath, his whole body shivering under Yifan’s hold. The Duke waited for the shaking to settle, arms wrapping further whenever Lay felt too small. “Then why did you leave?” He loosened his hold as he felt Lay pull away, but continued to hold onto his shoulder, even as Lay turned away once more, wiping at his face as he took a deep breath. “Lay?”  
  
“Because,” Lay bit his bottom lip and his jaw clenched, “Just - just because, okay?” he got up to his feet, wiping at his face angrily still.  
  
“That’s not an answer,” Yifan persisted, following suit up onto his feet and grabbing Lay by the wrist before he could get too far. “And you know it.”  
  
Lay turned to glare once at the hand around his arm and then up at Yifan, “Are you _really_ going to make me say it?”  
  
“I asked, didn’t I?”  
  
Lay managed to pull his arm back to himself but he didn’t start walking away again. “ _Because I’m not good enough for you_ , okay? Your mother knows it and she never failed to remind me of it in her _stupid_ classes, Minseok knew it when he first found out that I was not a woman, and you know it, that’s why you stopped coming to see me when you realised that you needed to do your part in the political world and get married to that stupid nice girl.”  
  
“‘Stupid nice girl’?” Yifan repeated before he realised that this probably shouldn’t have been what he focused on, “Really? She’s quite smart, actually.”  
  
Lay didn’t reply, but he started away from Yifan once more.  
  
“Wait! Look, given how Minseok talks, sometimes I feel like he doesn’t think _I’m_ good enough, so yes, maybe he didn’t quite have the warmest response when he first found out about you, but that’s not an emotion he has exclusively for you. Besides, he was the one who found you. And my mother? She’s my mother, she’s not going to think anyone will be good enough for me.” And as for _me_? How, how _on earth_ can you think that _I_ don’t think you’re good enough for me? You’re _perfect_ for me, okay? Don’t ever forget that,” he said, taking Lay’s hand in his own.  
  
“She thinks Ah Mei is good enough,” Lay pouted, still looking away.  
  
Yifan couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s only because she thinks the arrangement is beneficial to her,” he answered. “But I like _you_ ,” he reaffirmed with a squeeze, wondering how many more times he’d have to say it for Lay to believe him; whatever the number was, he’d do it, as many times as it took.  
  
“Why me?” Lay croaked, “Why are you so nice to _me?”_  
  
“You really going to make me say it?” Yifan asked, mirroring Lay’s earlier words back at him to no response. Yifan took a step closer and positioned himself to make sure he could look at Lay properly, “ _Because I love you.”_  
  
The statement was met with silence and Yifan swallowed, realising it was the first time he’d said that out loud. His heart skipped a beat, but he felt calm, having finally gotten it out.  
  
“The day before you left on your tip, I spent the night with Tao,” Lay stated emotionlessly, head down again.  
  
“I know,” Yifan returned through gritted teeth, “I saw you leave his room.”  
  
Lay finally turned to face Yifan, features dark and an indeterminate mix of emotions swirling in his watery eyes. “Then why me?” he blurted, “That’s the kind of person I am! I owe you my life and I’ll still go and share another man’s bed!”  
  
Yifan took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Despite finding out immediately from Zitao’s own mouth that what he’d seen hadn’t been what he’d thought it was, it had still left Yifan feeling betrayed. It hurt that Lay had seeked comfort with Zitao, and not the Duke himself, especially if he’d been sitting here right beside him when Lay woke up. Even after being away at the Forbidden City for a few days, when the Duke came home and saw how friendly Lay had been around Zitao, it stung. It took another day before he realised that Lay finding a friend in Zitao wasn’t the worst; at least it seemed to help keep him _here_. He regretted deeply having not cleared the air before Lay took off again.  
  
“I know nothing happened, Zitao told me himself.”  
  
Lay scowled, “Then he’s lying.” He pulled his hand out of Yifan’s and reached into his shirt to retrieve a wrinkled page with smudged 正’s written across it countless times. “ _Look_. _This_ is who I am. For _every_ mark on this page, I had to _sleep_ with a different man. _Every mark_ is a different client, do you get that?” Lay’s eyes were rimmed with red with a combination of rage and pain.  
  
Yifan reached out, desperately wanting to bring Lay in for a hug once more, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault but Lay stepped back, pushing away Yifan’s offers of comfort with an expression that looked like he was going to be sick.  
  
“This doesn’t even count the _repeats_ with clients. Do you know how many more marks I’d have if I counted those too? _Hundreds_. Your mother is right. This,” he emphasized by pointing to the page and then gesturing to himself, “ _This_ is _what_ I am. Just a filthy whore that isn’t worth your… _your_ _anything_!”  
  
Tears flowed freely from Lay’s eyes and he stood shaking on the spot, staring down at his tally sheet. Yifan reached to take the page from Lay but the latter wouldn’t let go, gripping it tightly as tears began to run the black kohl. The sheet finally gave under the strain, splitting where its strength was weakest. Yifan made a dramatic move to shred it, making sure that Lay was watching as he did so.  
  
“ _That_ is _not_ who you are, Lay,” Yifan reassured, letting the pieces fall across their feet, some floating down to be claimed by the pond. He extended his arms once more to bring Lay towards him, holding tight even as the latter struggled, clearly reluctant to be consoled by the Duke. Yifan waited until Lay stopped fighting, collapsing against Yifan with arms reaching behind the Duke to close his fists tightly around cloth. “ _That_ is - was just a piece of paper that you’re _never_ going to have to use again, you hear? Yes, it might’ve been your life for a long time and I’m not saying you need to simply forget it all, but you need to look forward and stop hanging onto that painful reminders of something you clearly hate. _Please let me help you_.”  
  
Lay began to tremble under him and was soon wracked with audible crying. Yifan softened his embrace and pressed his cheek into the top of Lay’s head. “I’m sorry I didn’t immediately come see you when I got back from my trip. But I promise, I’m never letting you go, okay? You can throw whatever test you want my way, I’m not letting you go.”


	28. Chapter 28

Yixing smiled as he strolled the streets with his elbow linked through the Duke’s. It felt like an eternity since the last time he’d done this and he leaned in closer to the Duke as if he needed to confirm that the other was real. The Duke looked down beside him with a raised eyebrow, a question of whether Yixing was alright exchanging silently. Yixing shook his head and dropped his arm to snakes his fingers between the Duke’s eliciting a smile from the latter as they dropped in on a textile store. Yixing’s fingers traced along the length of an emerald green, patterned with elegant swirls.  
  
“You like this one?” The Duke asked, signalling for the shop owner to pull the roll out for a closer length.  
  
Yixing’s face flared bring red, “You said you liked green, right?”  
  
The Duke chuckled lightly and kissed Yixing’s forehead lightly, “Yeah, but I’d like any colour if it was you wearing it,” he replied, sending Yixing’s cheeks ablaze even hotter. He requested a length of the fabric from the shop owner, paying more than the product cost to get it delivered to his manor; the Duke had been adamant on sharing some private time with Yixing and had sent Minseok back home.  
  
“You hungry?” The Duke asked after thanking the shopkeeper for the purchase.  
  
Yixing shrugged, “Sure.” He couldn’t decide if the butterflies in his stomach could handle the company, but it seemed like it might be a good idea to give his legs a rest. He simply followed the Duke towards a restaurant that the Duke clearly frequented given how he was greeted by the host at the door.  
  
“Your guest arrived only a few moments ago,” the host announced as he guided the couple towards the Duke’s ‘usual room’.  
  
Yixing faltered at the comment. _Guest_? Hadn’t the Duke promised it would be a morning of just the two of them?  
  
The Duke vocalised his appreciation as the door was opened for him, dismissing the man before disappearing into the room as Yixing fought to regain the strength in his legs enough to follow. He collapsed against the wall feeling dizzy as a flurry of questions racing through his mind. _Why had the Duke not warned him of this guest?_ Who _was this guest? What exactly was the plan here? For the Duke to give him some terrible justification as to why the Duke could never actually deliver on any of his promises?_  
  
“Hey,” the Duke stuck his head out from behind the door, “You coming in? I thought you said you were hungry?"  
  
 _I said ‘sure’_ , Yixing wanted to retort; he should’ve said no at the offer of lunch.  
  
The Duke’s eyebrows drew together in concern, “Lay?”  
  
“Is everything alright, My Lord?” The outline of a slim figure appeared next to the Duke, her arm reaching up to touch the Duke before she turned and noted Yixing’s presence as well.  
  
The butterflies in Yixing’s stomach quickly faded to an uncertain clench as he involuntarily took a step backwards.  
  
“Oh, Hi, Lay! I didn’t realise we were having company,” Ah Mei trailed, turning to address the Duke in such a casual manner that brought the bitter taste of bile up.  
  
Yixing could see the Duke give him a look that might have been of concern if Yixing wasn’t convinced that the Duke had planned this from the beginning. A nagging voice tried to remind him that he should trust the Duke but he silenced it; if the Duke didn’t have ill-intentions, why would he have kept the reasoning for this rendez-vous so secret? He struggled to come up with an excuse to leave even when he knew that _any_ excuse would do; it wasn’t as it the most terribly nonsensical and unbelievable excuse could make the situation worse. “I-I have to uh-” he started, a jumble of instringable words stuck in his throat.  
  
The Duke stepped forward and reached to Yixing who stumbled backwards out of his grasp.  
  
“Can you give us a moment please, Ah Mei?” the Duke asked politely. While his question was clearly directed at Ah Mei, the Duke didn’t turn to address her properly, keeping his gaze steady on Yixing as he tried another step forward.  
  
Yixing willed himself to simply turn and leave but his feet refused to obey. He watched Ah Mei give both the Duke and himself a questioning look but agreeing to retreat back into the dining room and closing the doors.  
  
“I’m sorry, Lay. I thought this might be a good surprise...” the Duke whispered as he stepped forward enough to take Yixing’s hands in his own.  
  
Yixing swallowed, “What am I doing here?” he asked, tone a little harsher than he has intended it to be. “If you wanted a lunch date with _her,_ why did you bring me along?” He glowered at the closed door, wondering if _that woman_ would be pressing her ears on it.  
  
The Duke paused a long beat, as if in contemplation, “Lunch, right?” the Duke answered, a slight grin starting to form upon his lips  that made Yixing frown in response.  
  
“Is this all some game to you?”  
  
The chuckle that the Duke responds with was enough to finally unglue Yixing from his spot. He turned and started away before the Duke caught him around the waist.  
  
“Of course it’s not a game,” the Duke insisted as he set Yixing to face him once more, his grin widening.  
  
“ _Then why are you laughing?!”_ Yixing argued indignantly, throwing the Duke’s hands off of himself. Why did he have to see the Duke with his fiancee? Yes, he had the admit that Ah Mei was a nice enough person, but it didn’t mean that the idea of the Duke with her.  
  
The outburst seemed to only feed the Duke’s amusement as he chuckled again. “Because it’s cute.”  
  
Yixing could only narrow his eyes, both confused and sceptical of what the Duke was trying to say.  
  
“You being jealous is cute,” the Duke answered nonchalantly, as if the most natural comment.  
  
Yixing’s ears burned with affront, “I am _not_ ,” he insisted, especially since he _couldn’t_ be jealous, it simply wasn’t his place. Yixing had always known his place and he’d known the Duke’s. Yes, he could admit that he didn’t particular enjoy the thought of the Duke with someone, _anyone_ else, but he was hardly _jealous._  
  
The Duke smiled softly as he stepped forward to press his lips briefly on Yixing’s forehead, hand placed at the base of Yixing’s back comfortingly, “We’re just here to clarify something,” the Duke declared gently, bringing Yixing towards him to rest his chin on the top of the shorter’s head. “I promise we can leave as soon as we’re done.”  
  
 _Just spit it out_ , Yixing wanted to say, hating how his own hand had naturally and involuntarily come up to settle on the Duke’s hip when the latter had stepped forward. He breathed the Duke’s scent in deeply and chose to trust him, quelling with difficulty the voice that insisted that this was all an elaborate plan to prove to Yixing that there was no place for him in a duke’s life.  
  
“I’m calling off my engagement with Ah Mei,” the Duke announced in a hushed tone, eyes flickering back to the closed door for a moment.  
  
“What?” Yixing responded flatly, taking a step back only to have the Duke drag him back.  
  
“You heard me,” the Duke whispered, “And don’t ask me why, _you know why_.”  
  
Yixing had his mouth open halfway before the Duke answered his unasked question. He pressed his lips together a moment, almost bringing himself to smile until the consequences of that action reminded him of greater forces at play. “The _Emperor_ has already given his blessing for this union. You cannot simply _cancel_ the wedding. It’s in two days!”  
  
The Duke pushed a loose hair behind Yixing’s ear before his palm rested on Yixing’s cheek. “I don’t care.”  
  
Yixing reluctantly pulled away from the Duke’s warmth, “What do you mean _you don’t care_? You could get beheaded for this!”  
  
The Duke frowned, “I doubt the Emperor would have me beheaded for this, but even if he were to, _I don’t care._ ”  
  
“Well, I do!” Yixing exclaimed, not entirely sure where his anger was rooted.  
  
The Duke seemed to share the same confusion, eyebrows raised. “Is this another test?” he asked gingerly.  
  
Yixing felt his teeth ground together as he ignored the comment to press on, starting to pace in front of the Duke, his own eyebrows stitching together as he considered the options, “Best case scenario, you _don’t_ get killed for going against the Emperor’s words. He allows your continued existence, but I earnestly refuse to believe that he’d simply let you carry on your life as you have been until now. You’d likely lose your position as a Duke and you would no longer be in charge of keeping this village in order. Could you live with that?” Yixing saw a muscle tense in the Duke’s jaw and despite being the point out the issues with the Duke’s plan, his heart sank. As his chest started to throb painfully, he forced himself to finish, “You have to marry Ah Mei.”  
  
The Duke flinched visibly as though the words physically burned him. His eyebrows drew down as he closed his eyes briefly, a hushed curse slipping from his lips, “But I love _you,_ Lay.”  
  
Yixing swallowed hard at the declaration and had to bite his tongue: _tell me I’m wrong, tell me there’s another way_ , he wanted to shout. A dreadful cloud of silence hung in the air between them until there was a soft knock on the door frame before it slid open. “Uhm, I’m really sorry to intrude, but you two are really not as quiet as you think,” Ah Mei stated matter-of-fact. “Why don’t you just come in and perhaps we can discuss it together instead of me sitting in here eavesdropping?”  
  
Yixing’s face burned in alarm at the interruption and he turned away quickly, feeling guilty. The Duke seemed to take on the same expression, only he recovered much more quickly than Yixing, apologies rolling off his tongue as he returned to the room. Yixing stared after him, stonelike until Ah Mei grabbed him around the elbow gently to guide him inside after the Duke.  
  
The room’s silence echoed louder than the screaming in Yixing’s own mind; how terrible Ah Mei must feel at the moment, finding out that her fiancee wanted to cancel their wedding _through a wall._ Yixing took a seat at the table as far away as possible from both in his company. His breathing seemed too loud in this vacuum so he held his breath instead.  
  
“I’m sorry you had to hear it like that,” the Duke started, a look of regret written in every feature, “But it is true, I’d like to dissolve our arrangement.”  
  
Another sullen silence fell in the room and Yixing instinctively reached one hand to the opposite arm, nails chipping away at an aging scab as a distraction from the deafening thumping of his heart in his ears.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Ah Mei finally vocalizes after what felt like an eternity to Yixing, “but I have to side with Miss Lay.”  
  
Yixing let out the breath, though he was unsure if it was relief at being validated or gratitude that Ah Mei hadn’t immediately exploded into a thunderous rage, though her calm was just as unnerving.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong,” Ah Mei continued, interrupting the Duke before he could begin whatever rebuttal he’d prepared. “I’ve known for a while now that your heart does not lie with me, and it doesn’t bother me.” Both Yixing and the Duke glanced each other momentarily before both turning a bright pink. “But you should know by know that my father is not a forgiving man. If you call off this wedding, I’m not certain what he’ll do.”  
  
The Duke sat up straight, determined, “I’m sure if…”  
  
Ah Mei shook her head before the DUke could finish, “No, there is no negotiating with my father. And especially not when it is a personal matter.”  
  
The Duke scowled but kept silent. Yixing bit down on his bottom lip as his fingernails dug into a fresh nerve. He flinched when the distinct taste of iron coated the inside of his mouth, not realising how hard he’d been exerting. He slackened his jaw and wiped the back of his hand across his lip, running a streak of bright red across it.  
  
“There’s got to be a way,” the Duke sighed, turning around to glance at Yixing who swallowed and looked away quickly when he saw the conflict in the former’s eyes. He continued to work at the scab, digging deeper even as he started to feel the tips of his fingers grow moist.  
  
“Marry me,” Ah Mei offered before holding up a hand to ask for the Duke to allow her explanation, “I already know your secret,” she glanced at Yixing, “and I have no intention to share it. Nor do I have any intention of keeping you two apart. If you _did_ manage to hold off _this_ wedding, I’m willing to bet that your mother would work to find another, and you might be able to fight that one too, and the next one, but not forever.  
  
“I’ll play along to anything public, but when we are alone, I shall tend to my own matters as you tend to yours. A mutually beneficial business arrangement, as my father had intended in the first place, just perhaps not in this specific manner. And he certainly doesn’t have to know.”  
  
The Duke was reluctant to commit to answer either way, looking to Yixing who could only swallow hard as he glanced between two expectant gazes.  
  
*  
  
Yixing took a deep breath as he stepped forward with tray in hand. Taking careful steps, he made his way to the front of the room where the Duke’s mother sat with a slight smirk on her features as she watched Yixing move, practically ignoring the couple dressed in red kneeled before her. The Duke seemed to be making a point of avoiding Yixing’s while Ah Mei had the slightest sign of a smug grin on her face.  
  
The teacups on his tray vibrated from his apprehension even as Yixing tried to steady his grip, and only grew worse as he neared the Duke’s mother. “Keep it together,” he berated himself under his breath, reminding himself that he’d been the one to volunteer when the Duke declined Ah Mei’s suggestion that Yixing be their tea bearer.  
  
 _“It’s the only way he’d be allowed in, and I really would like him to be there with us. It wouldn’t be right to do it without him._ ”  
  
Yixing had felt that he owed Ah Mei at least something, since he was, in essence, ruining what was supposed to be the best day of Ah Mei’s life, her wedding, not to mention, _the rest of her life_. But as he stood shaking before the Duke, his mother and his wife, Yixing began to doubt his decision.  
  
The Duke’s mother made no effort whatsoever to conceal her glee at the wedded couple before her, understandably so, given that she’d never liked Yixing from the day she’d set her sights on kicking Yixing out of her precious son’s life.  
  
Ah Mei’s expression was an alarming and unexpected mix of amusement and smugness, as if gloating a victory. Yixing swallowed nervously, not sure what to make of it and immediately looking to the Duke beside her for reassurance but he only continued his determined act of avoidance.  
  
Yixing’s nerves finally got the best of him and he stumbled mid-step, sending one of the cups crashing to the floor. He hurried to kneel down to pick up the scattered pieces, trying to block out the raucous and mocking tittering of the Duke’s mother. In a rush, he knicked his thumb on a particularly sharp shard and he gasped out loud in alarm. He chanced a look up as he sucked on the injury, noting with a pang that thought the Duke had finally turned to pay him any attention, it was with a disgusted look on his face. Ah Mei barely hid her amusement behind her sleeve, veil doing little to conceal anything.  
  
“On your knees and doing a servant’s job, that’s more like it,” the Duke’s mother crowed with a chuckle.  
  
Yixing choked on nothing but the heavy air in the room, scrambling to his feet, eyes searching for the quickest way out of the room.  
  
“Good, run away,” the Duke called after Yixing, cutting like a blade through the latter’s back as he ran. “That’s all you’ve ever been good at. It’s not like you could ever be a match for me, anyway.”  
  
Yixing covered his ears in a desperate effort to tune the words out, hitting too close to home for comfort. The exit was but steps away, but the more Yixing took, the further it seemed. His shoulder finally crashed through the door, tearing away the wooden frame and doing nothing to slow him down as he hurled off an edge he didn’t know was there. His scream got lodged in his throat as the sensation of falling engulfed him, the image of the Duke’s disgusted face looking down at him the last thing he saw as he shut his eyes tightly and waited for the end.  
  
*  
  
Yixing woke with a start, sweat beading all over his face and his heart pounding in his chest and climbing up into his throat when he sat up. His breathing came in short gasps and he fought to get it steady again, swallowing thrice when he thought he might lose the breakfast he had yet to eat. One hand clutching his chest and the other cradling his forehead, Yixing bent over in his bed, eyes wide in horror as he remembered the nightmare in all its vivid details.  
  
What had he been thinking when he agreed to making an appearance at the tea ceremony today? Yixing had no business there, no, he really had no business being _here_ , back at the Duke’s mansion, surrounding by artifacts of nobility and class that was well above what he was.  
  
Yixing had been so caught up in the ecstasy of it all that he’d irgnored all reason and now his conscience was punishing him for it. He eyed the pack he’d brought with him from the other house, the key still laying on the table. He took a deep breath and stood up; it was a good thing he hadn’t unpacked when he arrived in evening, opting to immediately collapse in his bed instead.


	29. Chapter 29

“Lay! I know you’re in there!”  
  
Yixing sighed as he tossed a loose pebble into the pond before getting to his feet and heading to the gate where he’d taken the lock originally on the outside and put it on the interior.  
  
“Please let me in, Lay! No one else but you could’ve put a lock on the inside of this door! I know you’re in there, so open up!”  
  
In all honesty, Yixing had had no plans of keeping the Duke out when he came, he just needed the warning of his arrival. He took a deep breath as he inserted the key, unlocking it with a click before pulling the chains from the handles with a loud clang he knew the Duke would hear from the outside.  
  
The doors swung open towards him and Yixing had to take a few steps back to keep from getting knocked over. The Duke must’ve come straight here after his ceremony, being that he was still wearing wedding red. Yixing wondered for a moment how the Duke could’ve gotten away but the Duke seemed to live outside even his own rules.  
  
Yixing swallowed nervously as he watched the Duke watch him, neither of them moving in the silence that fell, only interrupted by the clanging of the chains that still hung on one of the door handles. Yixing finally cleared his throat, “I’m sor-” he started before getting interrupted as the Duke took three long strides towards and drew Yixing in an almost-suffocating embrace.  
  
“Oh, thank god you’re still here,” the Duke mumbled into Yixing’s hair, tickling the top of the latter’s head and sending butterflies flittering excitedly in his stomach. Yixing couldn’t help the smile that made itself home on his lips and he brought his arms to reciprocate the gesture, relishing the warmth of the Duke’s body against his own.  
  
When the Duke finally pulled away, he placed hands on either side of Yixing’s face, looking at him as if trying to convince himself that Yixing was in fact standing in front of him. It was only a moment before a frown creased his forehead, “Next time, a little heads up before you disappear again would be nice,” he muttered, though with ill-intent. “Ah Mei was worried she’d sent you packing forever.”  
  
Yixing shrugged, “I thought about it.”  
  
The Duke’s jaw clenched visibly as his hands dropped back to his side but he didn’t say anything, waiting instead for Yixing to continue.  
  
“But I realised that I wouldn’t have made it very far,” Yixing continued before he paused to take a deep breath that did nothing to slow the blood from racing into his cheeks, “I’d miss you too much.” He cleared his throat as he avoided making eye contact with the Duke, who at the moment, wore an expression of amazement at the declaration. “I love you too,” Yixing managed to croak out before completely dropping his gaze.  
  
There was a long silence before Yixing dared a glance up, only to find the Duke with a silly grin splattered across his features.  
  
“What?” Yixing bit out, a little more angrily than he intended or felt. He was annoyed though; he'd put his emotions on display for the first time in what get like forever and his reception was just a goofy smile.  
  
“Nothing, just that that’s the first time you’ve said that.”  
  
Yixing’s cheeks burned hotter than he’d even thought was possible, “Ah… yeah… I guess,” he mumbled.  
  
The Duke brought a hand up once more to cup at the base of Yixing’s neck, drawing him in for a gentle yet needy kiss, “I love you,” he murmured, thumb tracing soft lengths across Yixing’s cheek while the other arm wrapped firmly around Yixing’s waist. “You know that right?”  
  
As a reply, Yixing reached up to knit his fingers together behind the Duke’s neck, bringing the taller down to him as his lifted onto his tiptoes. He pressed into the Duke’s sturdy frame with a satisfied sigh that reverberated in his throat as he pressed his lips against the Duke’s. He slid under the Duke’s touch, eager for the closeness he hadn’t felt with the Duke since Yixing had still been a courtesan under The Star’s label.  
  
The Duke seemed to recover from his alarm of having Yixing fold into him so easily, deepening their kiss, accepting the shorter’s request to explore his mouth with enthusiasm. When the Duke moved to pick up Yixing, the smaller hopped up, eager to wrap his legs around the taller’s waist, waiting until the Duke carried the both of them through the open front door before pulling away for a breath. Yixing rested his forehead against the Duke’s, breathing heavy before swallowing. “Don’t you have a wedding night to get to?” he asked, voice raspy and barely above a whisper as the Duke continued to walk into the house, his breath hot against Yixing’s.  
  
“Yeah,” he murmured before drawing Yixing in for another kiss, “Right here.”  
  
Yixing smiled against the Duke, trying to wriggle closer, the need for the Duke’s touch all he could see, hear, feel as he closed his eyes in bliss. He pulled at the collar of the Duke’s robes, cursing under his breath when they failed to fall loose under his deft fingers. “Why are there so many goddamned layers?!” he grumbled, eliciting a soft chuckle from the Duke as he sat Yixing down on the bed.  
  
Yixing clambered quickly to his knees, pressing up against the Duke to capture the other’s lips between his own again, reluctant to spend even a second away as the Duke split his focus to undo the belt around his waist and toss it somewhere behind him. Yixing reached his hand around the Duke’s collar (finally loosened) and pulled him down so that Yixing could lie back, the Duke’s elbows falling to rest on either side of his head.  
  
Years of instinct as a courtesan didn’t seem to help Yixing as he fumbled with finding an opening in the Duke’s robes as his own dress started to get unruly with his back against the bed.  
  
Being with the Duke was both familiar and so very new at the same time. Every touch sent shivers of strange electricity through Yixing that left him wanting more, and their past trysts made it easy to fall into a familiar rhythm. The Duke made quick work of undoing Yixing’s dress and the cool feel of the fresh linen under him made Yixing flinch slightly from the contrast to the burning of the Duke’s chest against his own as the latter scattered kisses from Yixing’s neck down to his chest, rough fingers entwining with delicate ones. The Duke took a nipple gingerly into his mouth, tongue drawing circles that made Yixing inhale sharply and reach into the Duke’s hair to grab a fistful.  
  
The Duke came back up to face Yixing, no complaint about Yixing’s tight grip in his eyes, dark and full of lust as he kissed Yixing again, “I’ve missed you so much.”  
  
“Yeah,” was the only thing Yixing could spare enough breath for as he pulled away the rest of the Duke’s robes. The Duke’s thigh felt hot against his own and Yixing moaned when the Duke’s fingers found their way around his arousal. His hips canted up naturally as the Duke started with long strokes, pulling groans of ecstasy from Yixing. His breath hitched when he felt a single finger press first against, then past his entrance, working him open with deft movements. The slow pace was driving him mad and in an effort to urge the Duke to hurry, Yixing thrusted up into the hand around his cock before grinding back down onto the finger of the Duke’s other hand.  
  
Yixing whined when he felt the Duke let go of his arousal. In a desperate, instinctual need to keep the Duke close and sate the desire burning in his veins,  he wrapped his legs around the Duke’s torso to pull him forward, throwing the latter slightly off balance before he caught himself, hovering less than an inch above Yixing. “More,” he whispered in a raspy voice, not caring that the single word made him sound desperate; he was. He’d missed the Duke’s nightly visits, missed the closeness, missed the friction of royalty within him.  
  
The Duke smiled against the kiss he pressed against the Yixing’s lips before sucking a line down to the other’s hips where he stopped to dart nothing but a kittenish lick over the leaking head of Yixing’s cock before moving further south. An involuntary shudder wracked Yixing as the Duke pressed his lips to the insides of his thighs, breath hot as he cupped a hand on each cheek. Yixing gasped sharply when he felt the Duke's hands move in to press him open, making room for the Duke's face. An expletive slipped past his lips and Yixing grabbed the sheets of either side of him for some sense of purchase as the Duke's tongue started working him open, a practised finger quickly joining the wet appendage; the alternating press and pull of both combined within him made Yixing bite down on his lower lip in an attempt to muffle his ministrations, but it did little to suppress the long whine of pleasure that escaped him. He let go of the sheets to his right to frantically wrap his hand around himself, mind blurring as he tried to decide which rhythm to follow.  
  
Yixing swore out loud when the Duke pulled his tongue out, only to swear again when the Duke pushed in two more fingers in its place.  
  
“God, you're so beautiful,” the Duke praised as he came up to look Yixing in the eye.  
  
The Duke’s voice brought Yixing back only slightly from his edge and he could barely focus on the face hovering above his own with the Duke still three fingers deep inside of him, the longest digit brushing up teasingly against his prostate repeatedly in a painfully slow manner.  
  
“My Lord,” Yixing whined, ignoring the compliment in favour of drawing the Duke's attention back to the task at hand. He pulled the Duke down for a long kiss, messy and tasting of his own arousal. When they pulled apart, the Duke reached down to grasp his free hand tightly around Yixing’s, but still loose enough that Yixing could set his own pace. The Duke's eyes grew darker, swimming listlessly for the answer to an unspoken question, May I?  
  
Yixing nodded fervently as he let go of himself to urge the Duke to take control of the pace, giving his pleasure completely into the hands of the other. His back arched off the bed when the duke started moving, and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting repeatedly into the tight ring the Duke’s fingers were holding, the sensitivity against the rough callouses a thrill that begged to be explored, over and over again.  He drew his leg up to hook his knee over the Duke's shoulder, eager for the other to just get on with it already.  
  
Yixing barely had time to miss the warmth of the Duke’s fingers thrusting in and out of him, feeling the tip of the Duke’s cock press against his entrance only a moment later. The Duke let out a guttural groan as he pushed in, the heat sending Yixing aflame as he adjusted, wincing only the slightest when all of the Duke’s fingers pressed bruises into his hips. The Duke leaned over to capture Yixing’s lips once more, swallowing the smaller’s sharp exhale as he thrust forward, his length filling Yixing completely and knocking up against him just so that it drew a muffled scream from him.  
  
Yixing reached up to thread his fingers through the Duke’s hair, clenching hard to get him to move. The Duke pulled out slowly before thrusting back in, hitting Yixing’s prostate with a grunt before pulling out again, setting an increasing pace that made Yixing gasp loudly with each plunge. The Duke slid his hand down from Yixing’s hips, fumbling a moment to get his fingers around Yixing’s cock once more and stroking him in rhythm to his thrusts. Yixing rocked into the Duke’s hand, vision turning white around the edges as he drew closer to his release. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision to take in the lewd image of the Duke towering over him, pounding into him, each successive move drawing the muscles in his jaw tighter. As if the Duke knew he was being watched, he looked down and locked eyes with Yixing. The contrast between the Duke's loving smile and his hair matted with sweat from the exertion was all it took for Yixing to come into the Duke's hand with a shudder and a scream, muscles clenching and unclenching around the Duke who all but collapsed on top of Yixing with the added sensation, breath hot against Yixing’s skin as he moved through it with short gasps.  
  
The Duke’s long groan in Yixing’s ear was the only warning before the smaller felt his insides fill with the Duke’s hot release. Yixing closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, feeling around lazily until he found the Duke’s hand, sticky with his own release. The Duke pulled their entangled fingers to his lips, kissing Yixing’s knuckles one by one before licking a line over the smaller’s release, now clinging to both of their skin, eyes fluttering closed as he swallowed; the sight made Yixing’s spent cock twitch between his legs and it almost had him try to start a second round, but instead he settled to pull the Duke towards him again with what strength he had left, tasting himself bitterly on the Duke's tongue as he kissed the other languidly.  
  
When the Duke finally managed to catch his breath in between the brushes of Yixing’s hungry lips, he pushed himself up on one elbow, gazing down lovingly at the other before kissing him again, long and passionate. Only then did he pull out, leaving Yixing feeling empty but satisfied.  
  
Yixing didn’t have the energy to protest when the Duke unlocked their hands to brush across Yixing’s forehead, pushing away matted hair, “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed with half lidded eyes, pressing another gentle kiss against Yixing’s lips that curled up into a smile; for the first time since he could remember, he believed the Duke's words.  
  
The Duke pressed another quick kiss upon Yixing’s forehead before he rolled to the side, reaching down to grab his discarded robe to throw over Yixing before getting up to retrieve proper linens from the wardrobe.  
  
Shivering in the absence of the Duke’s warmth, Yixing sunk into the Duke’s clothes, breathing in deeply to etch the scent into his memory, knowing that even if they were to be apart, he’d never forget it. The Duke returned a moment later and unfolded a blanket to pull over the both of them.  
  
Yixing shifted to make room for the Duke in the bed, curling into the taller’s chest as soon as he was in beside him, leaning his head comfortably on the inside of the Duke’s elbow. Yixing snaked his fingers in the spaces between the Duke’s, pulling them up to his chest with a long sigh as he finally let his eyelids droop closed, surrendering to the beckoning sleep.  
  
\---  
  
Yifan woke up to unfamiliar surroundings, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. He rolled his head to the side and smiled as he took in the image of a softly snoring Lay beside him. This was probably the first time the Duke had had the privilege of having Lay not disappear before first light of the morning after they’d laid with each other.  
  
As quietly as he could with the hopes of not interrupting Lay’s peaceful sleep, Yifan shifted under the sheets to free his arm enough to prop himself up, gazing down at Lay who stirred anyway, tangling his feet with Yifan’s as he opened his eyes with an expression that Yifan imagined mirrored his own when he first awoke.  
  
Lay turned to face Yifan with a yawn, “Good morning, My Lord,” he murmured blearily and Yifan’s heart skipped a beat at the state of Lay’s messy hair.  
  
Yifan frowned at the greeting, “How come you never call me Yifan?” he asked with a slight pout, “You always use ‘My Lord’ or some other ridiculous title, even last night.”  
  
Lay grinned widely - Yifan could get used to that - and turned away from Yifan, as if to get up, “Well, whatever you’d like, My Lord,” he emphasizing, turning around to show off his overly drawn serious expression.  
  
Yifan growled at the mocking tone, reaching out and pulling Lay towards him gruffly, eliciting a laugh from Lay that echoed around Yifan’s ears, making him dizzy in bliss. “Let go!” the smaller squealed, trying to worm his way out of Yifan’s arms wrapped around his waist.  
  
“Stop calling me stupid names and I will,” Yifan protested, hold never slackening as he nuzzled into Lay’s neck.  
  
Lay squirmed with a yip, and the Duke made a mental note of how ticklish Lay was at his neck. “You’re such a child,” Lay remarked, still struggling against Yifan, feet kicking at Yifan but doing next to nothing, “Aren’t you supposed to be a duke, My Lord?”  
  
“What’s your point?” Yifan retorted back, nipping at Lay’s neck in reaction to being called “My Lord” again. His grip tightened as Lay managed a kick against his shin and he let out a growl.  
  
“Fine, let go, Yifan,” Lay finally submitted.  
  
Yifan grinned, but instead of letting go completely, he only slackened enough to draw Lay comfortably into his chest, the warmth of the latter’s back a soothing comfort after weeks of his absence.  
  
Lay stopped trying to escape and sunk into Yifan, tucking his feet between Yifan’s as he intertwined his fingers with Yifan’s around his waist. Yifan hooked his chin over Lay’s shoulder, “Say it again?” he asked quietly. “Please?”  
  
“Yifan,” Lay whispered, making Yifan flush at the sound of his name rolling off Lay’s tongue.  
  
“So,” Yifan started after a pause, “How are we going to do this, then?” He felt Lay’s body stiffen slightly against his own, and when the smaller didn’t speak up, he frowned, “You don’t want to come back with me, do you?” he asked with a frown that he was sure Lay couldn't even see.  
  
The Duke felt the hesitation in Lay’s pause and he unconsciously shifted anxiously.  
  
“I don't belong there,” Lay responded in a whisper, head turning away from Yifan and into the sheets.  
  
Yifan’s eyebrows stitched together, “You don't belong with me?” he asked gingerly, pulling Lay in closer when Yifan’s own doubt threatened his confidence.  
  
Lay’s fingers tightened around the Duke’s, “That's not what I meant and you know it.”  
  
“And where is it that you do belong, then?” Yifan asked carefully, hoping that his voice gave no indication of the fearfulness he felt in his chest, that Lay would suggest that he leave the Duke’s side; Yifan quieted the voice that tried to tell him that at least if that were the case, Lay had the decency to tell him in advance this time.  
  
“I love you,” - Yifan’s heart skipped a beat and the Duke wondered if that phrase would ever stop drawing butterflies into his stomach - “but I'm not like you. And I really can't bring myself to do all those things your mom wants of me.”  
  
Yifan shuffled to pull himself above Lay, who rolled onto this back to look up at the Duke with a questioning raised eyebrow, Yifan’s hands on either side of his face. “My mother will just have to accept that-” Yifan started, afraid that it might be his own mother who would be the thing keeping Lay away from him.  
  
Instead, Lay quelled his worries with a smile and reached a delicate hand to place on Yifan’s cheek. “Really, it's okay. She’s right, and you should listen to her. I can tell she only wants what's best for you.”  
  
Yifan frowned, a little bewildered from the reply, “She called you a whore, why aren't you more upset at her?” Yifan hadn't even been able to bring himself to forgive her for that specific comment.  
  
Lay sighed and pulled his hand away to roll onto his side again, “Well it's not like she's wrong…”  
  
Yifan scowled and dropped to lean on one elbow as he stared into his lover's eyes. “You're not thinking about leaving again are you?” he asked quietly, hoping that the smaller couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating as he waited for a reply.  
  
A flinch flashed across Lay’s features and the Duke almost regretted asking the question. “No, I… I think I'm done running.” Lay seemed hesitant to say his next words, mouth opening and closing several times before his lips pressed into a line.  
  
Yifan waited for Lay to finish whatever it was that he had wanted to say only to have the silence persist for an uncomfortably long moment. His eyebrows furrowed together as Lay deliberately looked away. “Then marry me,” he whispered quietly, taking the opportunity to fill the gap in conversation with the proposal he’d had in mind for days now. His heart skipped a beat as he waited, watching at Lay’s eyes went wide before settling into another unreadable expression that Lay was so good at.  
  
“I can’t,” Lay replied finally, voice barely audible. “I told you, I don’t belong there. At least not now, anyway,” he trailed. “Can’t I just… stay here, maybe? I-If you let me, I mean.”  
  
Yifan had to strain his ears to catch the mumble, finding himself surprised only by how unsurprising the suggestion was. Frankly, he was simply relieved that Lay wasn’t suggesting a separation. Somehow in his mind, he’d already begun to associate this establishment with Lay since the Duke had first brought the courtesan here. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I let you?” he added, almost amused that Lay was asking permission now after having been in possession of the only key for so long.  
  
Lay shrugged, “Well, I know that your father left this to you, so I didn’t know if…” he trailed off again.  
  
Yifan reached out once more to draw Lay into a hug once more, “You’re the most important thing to me right now,” he reassured, kissing the top of the smaller’s head and letting out another chuckle when he felt Lay’s cheek burning against his chest. “And that wasn’t a direct no, right, Lay?” Yes, admittedly, it hurt that Lay had so easily turned down his proposal, but he supposed that it would’ve been too soon anyway; though the arrangement with Ah Mei never forbade a second wife, it was rude to her to be thinking of it the day after their wedding. But Yifan was not going to give up on the idea completely anyway, and he was certainly going to take Lay’s current lack of response as a good sign.  
  
Yifan pulled away as another longstanding question begged to be answered, “How come you still have me call you Lay? Wasn’t that just your stage name? I recall you once telling me that your real name was Zhang Yixing but when you next came to me, you seemed anxious that I’d use it instead of ‘Lay’.”  
  
Lay stiffened against him, “Uhm, yeah,” was all he offered. “I haven’t uhm, I haven’t used that name for so long. I’m… not sure I know who that is anymore. I mean, yeah, I make Lu Han call me that but that’s really just to remind me that I had a name before… I’m not sure who I am if I’m not ‘Lay’, I don’t know if I even know how to be anyone but ‘Lay’...” he managed, syllables being strung together finally into coherency.  
  
“Then why don't we find out?” Yifan returned, tucking a loose hair behind the other's ear, “Together. You can be anyone you want to be, and I'll be right here with you the whole time,” he promised with a smile before faltering when a sniffle sounds from in front of him. He reached out to wipe a year that had formed at the edge of Lay's eye. “Hey… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push,” Yifan apologized. “We can keep calling you ‘Lay’ if that's what you'd prefer…”  
  
“No, it’s just… why?” Lay started, shaking his head, eyes wet and red as he frantically pushed wet streaks across his cheek with the back of his hand. “ _Why are you so good to me?_ ”  
  
Yifan’s head tilted to the side, a little confused as to why Lay didn’t already know, “You deserve it. And I love you, remember?” The comment seemed to only make the tears come faster and Yifan found him at a loss for what to do, opting finally to simply pull Lay in tightly in his arms again, stroking his fingers slowly through the smaller’s soft hair.  
  
It was an unbearably long silence before Lay spoke again, “Okay,” he finally agreed in a cracked voice, interrupted by a hiccup as his sobs finally subsided. “A fresh start, a clean slate right?” Yifan smiled, even though Lay - no, _Yixing_ \- couldn’t see him, “Of course not,” he pressed his lips against the top of the latter’s head, “You’re not erasing Lay from your history, that’d be impossible, it was such a long part of your life. We’re just.... starting a different chapter, one where you get to be the writer this time, to decide who you are and who you want to be. Not Lady Pearl, not any of the girls at _The Star_ , not anyone, _just you_.”  
  
Another moment passed before Yifan felt Yixing bristle under him and the Duke loosed his hold enough to let the other wipe his eyes again before nodding with a small smile, “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Yifan kisssed Yixing on the forehead before pulling away with a grin of his own. “And I swear to god, _Zhang Yixing_ , if you run away without telling me again, I- what?” Yifan stopped on mid-sentence when he noticed the look on Yixing’s face, wondering if he’d been premature about making this joke.  
  
Instead, Yixing smiled wider, “Nothing, I just like the way that sounds coming out of your mouth. And don’t worry, I won’t,” he promised.  
  
 _“I’m exactly where I should be.”_


	30. Epilogue

“One and two and three and four an-” Yixing made a disapproving sound as he shook his head, stopping in mid count as he uncrossed his arms to walk towards his student, “No, you’re a beat late on your turn and you’re going to miss the next part of the choreogra...” For the second time in less than a minute, Yixing stopped speaking, earning him a questioning look from his audience as he trailed off to focus on how low the incense had burned, well past lunchtime.  
  
“Zhang _lao shi_?” the student asked gingerly, still waiting for Yixing to finish his explanation of the fault.  
  
“Uhm,” Yixing filled emptily before remembering where his attention _should_ be, “Oh, yes. Sorry, but we’re going to have to end this lesson a little early today. I’ll make it up next time if that’s alright.”  
  
His student gave him an alarmed look before shrugging, “Sure,” she agreed, “I’ll see you in a couple days then.” She smiled and bowed a thanks before turning to leave.  
  
“Wait a moment,” Yixing called, stopping the young girl just as she reached the doors, hands already out to pull them open.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Yixing let out a breath as he pressed a wrinkle free from halfway down his dress, brushing a hair out of the way and smiling, “How do I look?”  
  
Yixing’s student returned the smile, “You look lovely, Zhang _lao shi_.”  
  
Yixing’s grin grew as he ducked his head to hide the fire warming his cheeks, fingers picking at his favourite green dress as he barely registered the girl’s departure. Making sure to bring along this month’s rent, he headed out of the school as well, almost forgetting to lock the front door before hurrying down the street, skipping every few steps in an effort to get to his destination quicker. His hand reached into his hair more than once to check that he was wearing the right hair ornament, as if it might’ve changed in the last ten meters.  
  
He took a last deep breath as he approached those familiar gates, trying to even out his steps as he approached the guards, who hardly waited for Yixing to speak before bowing respectfully and opening the doors behind them, “Welcome back, _xiao jie_.”  
  
Still getting used to the greeting, Yixing ducked his head and hurried in, wondering when he’d get used to it as he mumbled a ‘thanks’ quickly before disappearing. He managed to avoid a collision only by a hair, nearly tripping and falling as he dug in his heels to keep from running into Ah Mei.  
  
“Oh! You’re early!” She exclaimed, bringing her hand up over her chest in alarm. “Care to sit down and have some tea with me, _jie jie_?”  
  
Yixing wondered when he’d ever get used to the way Ah Mei teased him with the term, typically reserved for the first wife when being addressed by those that came after her and he flushed every time she called him as such. He shrugged in reply, and Ah Mei returned with a smile, indicating to one of her attendants to have a fresh pot made up and ready. “Shall we?” she asked Yixing, in the form of a question, though rhetorically as she snaked her arm through Yixing’s elbow. Yixing obliged, letting her lead the way even though he could probably find his way with his eyes closed. The two of them had made it a habit of meeting here once a month, though it was less _habit_ than necessity, Yixing supposed, given that his new dance school was on one of the streets that was managed by Ah Mei. He also supposed he could simply let Ah Mei send someone to pick up the month’ rent but Yixing didn’t mind going to the Duke’s home to meet her in person; he rather enjoyed her company actually.  
  
It also helped that hand delivering his rent to Ah Mei meant he was also going to see Lu Han. The last time Yixing stopped by the Duke’s home, he’d frowned at Lu Han jokingly, asking that the younger stop growing but Lu Han had merely chuckled, using Yixing as an elbow rest before Yixing shrugged it off, rolling his eyes. “I hope your face gets covered in pimples and all the girls ignore you,” he’d chided, only to have had Lu Han frown at him though his eyes had twinkled with amusement.  
  
“Are you getting jealous, Yixing ge?” Lu Han had mocked, “Afraid I’ll be prettier than you?”  
  
Yixing had scowled then, pushing Lu Han a foot before demanding where Minseok was and why Lu Han had been allowed to roam free; wasn’t there some sort of training he was supposed to be doing?  
  
Before Yixing had taken five steps, Ah Mei had already begun another of her rants about Huang Zitao, making Yixing wonder (yet again) whether the Duke had noticed this new development between his wife and his cousin. He nodded encouragingly where required before missing a step and stumbling at the sight of the Duke’s mother heading towards them.  
  
Ah Mei stopped in mid-ramble and looked up at Yixing with a confused raised eyebrow, “Are you okay?” she asked before noting the subject of Yixing’s alarm. “Oh,” she muttered, pulling her arm back to herself again before straightening her posture. Yixing didn’t bother to do the same; the Duke’s mother seemed to have be able to graduate from actively trying to make Yixing’s life miserable, but acting like Yixing didn’t even exist hardly wasn’t much of a step up. Yixing was grateful however, that she had stopped trying to get Yixing to wear male garments since the wedding. She sent him the occasional disapproving scowl once in a while when Yixing visited, but he much prefered it to the never ending analysis of his faults.  
  
“Well if it’s any consolation, she’s none too happy about my not producing any grandchildren for her after so many years, so at least you’re not alone with her disappointment,” Ah Mei mumbled under her breath as the two took careful steps towards the Duke’s mother.  
  
Yixing let out the breath he was holding as they approached the woman who wore a pressed line upon her face. She paused a moment as if she was about to greet the pair but only mustered a long exasperated sigh and a disapproving shake of the head before looking pointedly away and carrying on to her destination.  
  
“Hey, you’re not allowed to do that before I do,” Ah Mei scoffed, “At least you don’t _live_ with her.”  
  
Yixing couldn’t help the snort that escaped him and Ah Mei glared at the response. He apologized quickly but could barely conceal his grin as he took a seat at their usual table, a pot of tea already steaming in the middle of the table. Yixing waved away the maidservant that stepped up to pour the pair their beverages, as he had done for as long as he could remember; he still hadn’t gotten used to being waited on so thoroughly and he wasn’t sure he ever would.  
  
It was sometime after Ah Mei had started a one-sided discussion about the logistical difficulties of helping the Duke manage the many new businesses that had started with the construction of the nearby port that Yixing had started to space out as he wondered idly what the Duke was doing at this moment.  
  
“I’ve lost you haven’t I?” Ah Mei finally sighed defeatedly after a couple snaps in front of Yixing’s face to get his attention.  
  
“Huh?” Yixing muttered, blinking a couple times before Ah Mei came back into focus, “Oh, uh, sorry? I’m just er…,” he fumbled, reaching over to fill Ah Mei’s cup in apology.  
  
Ah Mei laughed, shaking her head, “It’s just as well, my Husband is here and he’s trying to inconspicuously signal me to leave but where would the fun be in that?”  
  
Yixing’s attention snapped behind him where Ah Mei was gesturing and he caught the tail end of the Duke’s scowl towards his wife before it was replaced easily with a winning smile as he headed towards Yixing who got to his feet to greet him. Ah Mei rolled her eyes before excusing herself, making her voice unnecessarily loud as she announced flatly, “Oh, it looks like I have something to do somewhere not here,” for effect before laughing as she passed the Duke who frowned once more.  
  
“I swear she takes joy in making me look like an idiot,” Yifan grumbled as he neared Yixing, pulling him in for a peck on the forehead before taking the seat that Ah Mei had vacated only moments ago.  
  
Yixing laughed, “You really don’t need her for that, you do that fine on your own.”  
  
Yifan’s frowned deepened, “You two need to stop being so friendly, she’s rubbing off on you.”  
  
Yixing shrugged, “I rather enjoy her company,” he countered, sticking his tongue out mockingly, knowing that the Duke hated the expression.  
  
“She really should’ve married you instead.”  
  
“Yeah, but that would do her father no good if his daughter married _me_ instead of a high and mighty duke such as yourself.”  
  
Yifan scowled for what seemed like the millionth time today, murmuring under his breath something about needing something stronger than _tea_ right now.  
  
“Would you prefer I stopped coming around then?” Yixing challenged, enjoying the way Yifan seemed to sink down lower into the table.  
  
“No,” the Duke muttered, “Just, you know, you spend so much time with _her_ when you come around…” he trailed.  
  
“Are you jealous?” Yixing mocked, shifting his seat closer towards the Duke who rolled his eyes.  
  
“Obviously. You always choose the worst times to come, I’m always busy.”  
  
“Well it’s not like you don’t come over regularly,” Yixing countered.  
  
Yifan let out a long sigh, “It’s not the same.” His tone was low and Yixing could tell what it was that the Duke _really_ wanted to say and he chewed on his nails nervously, a habit he’d picked up as the last of his cuts had faded into light pink scars.  
  
“Well, would it help if I… uhm… moved in?” he asked, wondering why he was so nervous; Yifan’s desire to have Yixing live within the Duke’s main home was no secret, but Yixing had repeatedly insisted that he wasn’t ready to handle the pressure. Perhaps it was how the Duke had been less adamant about it recently that made Yixing hesitate now.  
  
“Wait, what?” Yifan sat up stick straight in his seat, eyes so bright it made Yixing flinch slightly. “ _Really?_ You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, right?”  
  
“Uhm.” Warmth flooded violently into Yixing’s cheek as he looked down, fervently nibbling on his thumb nail before Yifan placed both hands on each side of his face and forced him to look at the Duke properly. “Yes?” he answered, in question form as if asking for permission.  
  
The features on Yifan’s face froze for a long moment before he jumped to his feet and pulled Yixing up so that he could close his arms around the smaller. “What _took_ so long?” he asked rhetorically.  
  
Yixing could only shrug; he couldn’t answer but it didn’t seem to matter to the Duke as he pressed his lips against Yixing’s, his smile evident against Yixing, whose own lips curled into a smile too, excited for this next chapter in his story with the Duke.


End file.
